


The Five People Who Found Out Peter Parker Was Spider-Man

by seekrest



Series: It's Quiet Uptown [3]
Category: Spider-Man - All Media Types, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017)
Genre: 5+1 Things, Deathfic, Grief/Mourning, Hurt Peter Parker, Not Avengers: Endgame (Movie) Compliant, Not Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie) Compliant, Parent Tony Stark, Peter Parker Deserves Better, Peter Parker Has a Family, Tony Stark Acting as Peter Parker's Parental Figure, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, What Was I Thinking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-28
Updated: 2019-05-19
Packaged: 2020-02-09 06:55:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 6
Words: 26,311
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18633073
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seekrest/pseuds/seekrest
Summary: And the one who had known all along.Or...A journey through grief from the perspectives of those Peter Parker left behind.





	1. Flash

**Author's Note:**

> Guess who's back, back again. 
> 
> I still haven't seen Endgame but just like last week, I couldn't stop thinking about the sad little universe I had created. 
> 
> This is part 2 of the “It’s Quiet Uptown” series - a sequel to “The Five People Who Missed Peter Parker the Most" - inspired by the tragedy of a world where Peter Parker dies. 
> 
> I know, I am the worst™️

Eugene Thompson was growing impatient.

“Sarah, you got the Leimowitz notes for me?” He tapped his fingers three times, a nervous tic he developed his senior of high school.

“Yes Mr. Thompson, I’m sending them to you right now.” His secretary’s voice, clear and concise from the StarkPhone. Eugene could hear her tone of annoyance, but he didn’t care. He’d asked for those notes before lunch, it was now 3pm and – of course – Sarah hadn’t deigned to send them to him yet.

“Thank you.” Eugene still offered, remembering his father’s advice about subordinates.

“If you are not good to those who serve you, then they will not serve you long.” His father Harrison Thompson had always bellowed, a commanding voice that struck fear into Eugene and made him feel inadequate in new and terrifying ways.

Every night, with the inevitable verbal tirade that his father would give, Eugene would tell himself that maybe tomorrow he’d be worthy. Maybe tomorrow he’d make him proud.

He never did.

Eugene shrug off the memory, the bad feelings of his childhood. He had been so angry growing up, lashing out – a textbook definition of a child with entirely too many emotions and no way to adequately express them.

He had been a bully. Cocky and arrogant, even had renamed himself after what had previously been his favorite comic-book hero – a textbook definition of a child who had something to prove but no one to approve of him.

But Eugene hadn’t been a bully in years, over a decade. Could tell you the exact time when that part of him had faded, stopped short. Eugene closed his eyes and let out a deep sigh.

Eugene had created a good life for himself. Had a good job. A good family. Considered himself to now be a good man.

But he had many regrets.

And one of those regrets was his treatment of Peter Parker.

* * *

 

Eugene – he went by Flash then – couldn’t tell you _why_ he chose to pick on Peter. Eugene hadn’t been popular, wasn’t the smartest kid in their science school of smart kids, wasn’t the best looking, wasn’t even the richest – though he’d certainly throw around his father’s money to try, and fail, to impress people. But he was accepted well enough. Had enough of an entourage that he could maintain a sense of dominance and control that he never felt when he was at home.

Peter Parker shouldn’t have been a threat to him. But he was.

Peter Parker was smart, one of the smartest in his class – if not _the_ smartest. Would surely have taken Michelle Jones’ place as valedictorian. He wasn’t rich. Wasn’t popular.

But Peter Parker had been well-liked, was friendly and quiet. And that had bothered Eugene.

Now as an adult, Eugene could recognize how his own insecurities enhanced his perception of how people responded to Peter compared to him.

That Eugene attempted to bribe, manipulate, and intimidate people into being around him while Peter – who had neither the resources nor the inclination to do any of those things – was just friendly and polite. And that had been enough to get people to like him.

As an insecure teenager with a controlling, borderline abusive father, Eugene’s need for attention had been all-consuming and Peter – kept to himself, quiet and yet inexplicably liked – was seen as a threat to Eugene’s own machinations.

Then Peter Parker had died.

And seemingly overnight, Eugene’s need for attention – his thirst and drive for popularity – suddenly weren’t important anymore. 

* * *

 

Even now, over ten years later – Eugene couldn’t help but feel a sharp pain of, not just remorse but embarrassment, of how had acted in the days after Peter Parker had died. The complete meltdown he had in front of some bodega in Queens.

Eugene’s world didn’t end when Peter Parker died. They weren’t close. Weren’t even friends. Eugene was the last person imaginable to show up at Peter Parker’s funeral, much less cry as they lowered his casket into the ground.

He still remembers the haunted look Ned Leeds gave at Peter’s funeral, the cold and glare he’d gotten from Michelle Jones when he arrived.

Eugene Thompson had known Peter Parker since they were both twelve years old, going to the same middle school until making the unlikely transition to the same gifted high school. Eugene had made Peter’s life a living hell for over four years, never taking a second to think of the long-term ramifications of his actions, knowing fully and intimately how much power and damage words could do.

He’d been insecure. Jealous even. Because no matter what Eugene had thrown at him, Peter hadn’t ever seemed to mind. Grounded and confident, drawn by some kind of invisible force that had been wholly unknown to Eugene.

When Peter died, Eugene wished he had that force too. 

* * *

 

Eugene is brought back to the present with a blinking reminder from his StarkPhone. Stark Industries was giving a press conference in the next couple of minutes and Eugene – an executive for their rival Oscorp – was eager to see what was going to be announced next.

Tony Stark had long since retired as Iron Man but the thrill of Stark’s announcement to the world all those years ago still made news organizations clamor with anticipation when a SI press conference was announced.

As Eugene tapped his fingers three times, he thought fondly back to that – remembered watching the video over and over on his first StarkPhone.

Tony Stark had been one of his idols. Brilliant, rich, a known difficult relationship with his father – Eugene had thought that if he could end up anything like Tony Stark, then he’d be okay.

Eugene remembered his awe when he saw footage of the Iron Man for the first time, jaw wide open as he saw the blasters, the metal, heard the telltale whine of his boosters. Eugene was amazed. It was like all of his comic-book characters come to life.

When Tony Stark revealed that Iron Man and he were one in the same, Eugene almost died from joy.

* * *

 

Captain America. Black Widow. Iron Man. The Hulk. _The Avengers_. As scary as the Battle of New York had been, as terrifying it was to watch the apartment next to him get crushed by some alien monster as he clung to his mother and cried, Eugene couldn’t help how wowed he was by the Avengers – this group of heroes that were like his comic-book characters come to life.

He didn’t think it could get any better.

Until Eugene learned about Spider-Man.

* * *

As Eugene waited for the live feed to begin, he tapped his fingers and softly smiled at the memory of Spider-Man.

Eugene had been obsessed with the heroes, obsessed with the Avengers and what they did – but his Spider-Man obsession went to an entirely new level. At sixteen, Eugene should have probably felt embarrassed for how brazen, how unabashedly infatuated he had been with a superhero from Queens. But Eugene had been the bully, not the bullied. Besides, everyone loved Spider-Man.

And everyone had mourned when he died – killed in action saving a kid just like Eugene.

* * *

 

Eugene could still remember the shock of scrolling through news feeds on his StarkPhone, the constant notifications from friends who knew he – Spider-Man super fan – would be able to verify whether the news was true or not.

Eugene had been dumbfounded. He had known everything that was publicly available about his hero – admittedly, not much but that hadn’t stopped Eugene from claiming his expertise on the man. He had not so secretly run a SpideyWatch Twitter, had a variety of Spider-Man decals and stickers all over her his personal belongings, and had numerous arguments with anyone who dared to dismiss his hero to his face.

The death of Spider-Man devastated him.

Eugene had known that life was shit and then you die – had this fact hammered into his head by a domineering and tactless father since he was in elementary school. But for some reason, Eugene had never considered Spider-Man to be a part of that.

If anything, Spider-Man’s existence gave him hope that no matter how bleak, no matter the problem – big or small – that there was someone out there watching out over him, someone he could rely on to make his little corner of the world suck less.

Hearing that Spider-Man died had made Eugene feel like there really was no hope left in the world. If all your heroes would fail – would leave – what was the point?

* * *

 

The next day in school had been miserable, the entire city feeling like they were in mourning as word continued to pour in.

Eugene obsessively read every detail, grasping at something to make sense of the emptiness he had felt, the irrationality of believing that maybe the cops had got it wrong – that maybe Spider-Man hadn’t been dead after all.

It was killing him on the inside, the not-knowing, the waiting. How could the city not have every last detail released? What had finally brought down the man that Eugene knew could stop a bus going forty miles an hour, could leap and swing from dizzying heights without once falling to his death?

It didn’t make sense to Eugene. He couldn’t understand it.

When he found out two days later that Peter Parker had died too, Eugene felt lost again too.

* * *

A car accident. Of all the things that Eugene could’ve imagined – and he really couldn’t fucking imagine this – he could not wrap his head around the idea that Peter Parker had been killed in a car accident.

Statistically, it made sense. Teenagers died in car accidents all the time.

Peter was a teenager. Peter was newly licensed. The roads had been slick, rain heavy. 

Peter Parker had died in a car accident.

Simple. It made sense.

And yet to Eugene, it was baffling. Wrong. It didn’t make _sense_.

As an adult, he could now recognize that this had been shock – a natural response to the horror of not only finding out that his hero was dead, but that the kid Eugene had made their high school experience a living hell – had died too.

But as a sixteen-year-old, Eugene had been at an utter loss.

* * *

The grief, the guilt was overwhelming. Grief because for all of the hell that his father had put him through, the mental anguish of hearing over and over that you would never be good enough, Eugene hadn’t ever personally encountered death.

All of his grandparents were happy and whole, no long-lost cousin or family member had ever bit the dust. He had been sad when he heard people had died in the big tragedies – 9/11, the Battle of New York, Sokovia – but in that selfish and young way, Eugene had felt untouchable.

No one in his life had ever died so to Eugene death was more of an abstract concept, an afterthought at the end of a very long, successful life.

The grief of Spider-Man and Peter and rapid succession had been unbearable to Eugene, wholly unprepared for the flood of emotions he had to stave down in school. It's when his tic developed, a way to bring himself back into the present. 

Immediately following the grief – the guilt. Guilt that he had bullied Peter for years. Guilt that he hadn’t once been kind to him, didn’t have one good memory or conversation between the two of them.

Peter Parker had been his rival, his opposition, the perfect representation of everything his father had wanted him to be but couldn’t – respected, liked, smart.

But there was another type of guilt, one that had been too painful to name but one that he was even more acutely aware of.

Peter Parker was not his friend. Peter Parker was the kid he had bullied for years.

Peter Parker was dead. And Eugene felt like he had no right to grieve him. 

* * *

The shuffle and rapid clicks of news reporters taking pictures as Tony Stark came into frame brought Eugene back from his memories. He tapped to turn the volume up and watched as Tony Stark – graying, looking older than his fifty years – began to speak.

“Ten years ago, the world lost out on knowing one of the greatest people I have ever had the privilege to know. You all know him as Spider-Man.”

The hush in the room was instantaneous, causing Eugene to lean in from his chair.

* * *

 

The death of Spider-Man had essentially been the death of Iron Man, of Tony Stark. Everyone knew now that Stark had been there when Spider-Man had died, causing some tabloids speculating if he had been the one to cause it.

Eugene, and many others, dismissed it – there hadn’t been anything to back it up since when he was alive, Spider-Man was sometimes considered Iron Man 2.0.

When Tony Stark disappeared from public view, the rumors ran wild.

Years later – Eugene had already been well into college by then – Tony Stark re-emerged a changed man.

Eugene could still remember that first press conference after Spider-Man’s death, the fire and vitriol in Stark’s voice dismissing the rumors and the lies. The press had been shamed, the newspapers who peddled the nonsense effectively run out of business.

But in the same press conference, Stark had announced his retirement from public life – as Iron Man – and the news went into a frenzy again.

That was a little over three years now and much to Eugene’s surprise, Stark had kept his promise. Aside from that one appearance, Tony Stark had essentially gone into hiding.

To see him now, older and noticeably less relaxed than Eugene would’ve figured a retired billionaire should be, Eugene felt that same burn of curiosity, of excitement, when the identity of Iron Man was brought into the light.

* * *

 

“Spider-Man was…” Tony paused. “Spider-Man was the best out of all of us. Defender, protector, the friendly neighborhood hero from Queen. Name any strength, any attribute to describe a good person and I could tell you that Spider-Man had them all and then some.”

Tony looked down at the podium, gathered himself the continued.

“But Spider-Man wasn’t perfect. I’m not saying this to criticize—” he waved his hand, “You all know better than anybody that I’m the least qualified person to do that when it comes to personal failings.”

The crowd softly chuckled as Tony smiled then continued.

“But Spider-Man wasn’t perfect. He messed up. Made mistakes. Had a lot of growing to do.” Tony’s eyes seemed to wander to the side of the camera, looking off into the distance.

Eugene looked away too, a sense of melancholy draping over him. He had dealt with his grief on Spider-Man years ago, was still enthralled with the idea of who Tony Stark was. But Spider-Man dying had done more than wreck Eugene’s hope and hero worship.

It had destroyed any respect he had for Iron Man. Because if Spider-Man could die – and Iron Man couldn’t save him – then what had been the point of heroes at all?

And while he didn’t believe the tabloid’s lies that Iron Man had orchestrated it all, the news that Iron Man had been there – at the scene when Spider-Man had died – and still failed to save him, broke that last sense of hope that Eugene had had in that world.

Eugene taps his fingers three times and straightens up, willing himself to focus in time for Tony to speak again.

“Cause here’s the thing about Spider-Man. I knew him.”

“I didn’t just know him as ‘masked menace’ or whatever shit you all came up with when the kid was still alive. I didn’t just know him as a prospective Avenger or enhanced being.” Tony paused. For dramatic effect, Eugene would’ve guessed but the look on Stark’s voice betrayed a sense of hesitancy.

“I knew Spider-Man the person. The man behind the mask… or well, kid.” Stark laughed humorlessly. The room was deathly silent. Eugene leaned in further.

“You see Spider-Man as you all know him, hadn’t been a man at all. Could barely drive. Wouldn’t have been able to vote…” Stark gripped the podium, steeling himself for something.

He looked straight into the camera.

“Spider-Man was a kid, a sixteen-year old named Peter Parker from Queens. And today, I finally get to tell you about him.” 

* * *

Tony Stark keeps talking but Eugene isn’t listening, a wave of shock pouring over him as he tried to absorb what he just heard.

_Spider-Man had been a kid._

_Peter Parker was Spider-Man._

_No, Peter Parker had died in a car accident. Shitty luck and timing, but that was it._

_Peter Parker died the same week as Spider-Man._

_Coincidence. It had to be coincidence. There was no way, there was no way._

_Peter Parker had always been late, disappearing at random times during the school year._

_No, Peter was quiet! Shy? He couldn’t be Spider-Man. Spider-Man was quick, funny, incredibly strong._

_Eugene distinctly remembered all the times he pushed Parker around, all the times Peter would trip and fall to the floor while Eugene laughed._

_Could he had been faking it? Was he faking it?_

_Tony Stark knew Peter Parker. The stupid internship Ned Leeds’ hadn’t shut up about._

_Tony Stark knew Spider-Man. Wore his tech all the time._

_Oh God._

_Peter Parker was Spider-Man._

As Eugene began to come to grips with the possibility, the mere thought of it shaking something deep inside him that he thought he had long since buried, his breath hitched when he saw a new person walk into frame.

May Parker walked cautiously to the podium.

Eugene cut the feed.

Oh God.

Peter Parker was Spider-Man.

…

Peter Parker _had_ been Spider-Man.

* * *

Eugene took the rest of the day off. Told his secretary to cancel his meetings and ignored the calls from his boss. He knew he’d have to hell to pay for walking out on the day when Stark Industries dropped the biggest fucking bomb on the planet, but Eugene didn’t care.

Eugene was wrestling with a different bomb in his mind.

As he walked aimlessly, robotically to the parking lot, Eugene wracked his brain over and over what he knew to try and make sense of what just heard.

Peter Parker and Spider-Man had both died in the same week.

Tony Stark had known both Peter Parker and Spider-Man.

Tony Stark was saying that Peter Parker and Spider-Man were the one in the same.

Eugene had thought Spider-Man was a hero.

Eugene had mercilessly bullied Peter Parker.

As he found his car, got in and turned the ignition, the next thought hit Eugene like a ton of bricks.

 _I made Spider-Man’s life a living hell_.

* * *

How he made it home, Eugene didn’t know. His wife Shana was there, an off day from her work in the hospital.

Eugene walked into their expansive living room and glanced at Shana, laying on the couch, clearly surprised to see him there.

“Gene? Is everything okay? Did something happen at work? I would’ve thought you’ve had a late night, considering Stark’s announcement.” It was then that he noticed the screen, that Shana had been watching the press conference too.

Shana was a physician, a surgical intern. A damn good one. Eugene had met her in a bar after he had been at his job at Oscorp for a year while she was in her second year of medical school. They had hit off – the arrogance of his youth long gone replaced by charisma and charm.

They made a good pair, Eugene thought. Her sharp tongue and sense of humor, his sense of business and knack for tech. Though he had long gotten over his need for his father’s approval, Eugene couldn’t help but think he still made a match with someone that Harrison Thompson would have deemed his equal.

As her face turned from curious to concerned, Eugene slightly wished he hadn’t married such an observant woman.

“Nothing, I—I’m fine, Shan.” He took of his suit jacket and walked over to her, giving her a light kiss before walking to their bedroom. Shana – clearly unconvinced – walked in right after him.

“Are you sure? Because you have the same look you get after your father calls.” Eugene gave a slight smirk before turning to her.

Of course, his expression would be one of guilt, of anger, and frustration.

It barely covered all that he was feeling about a ten-year old secret finally come to light.

She wrapped her arms around him and he let himself fall into her embrace, resting his head into the crook of neck.

“Whatever he said, whatever he did – he’s an ass.” She murmured, lightly caressing the back of his head.

“You’re a good man, Eugene Thompson. A good husband. A good father. And nothing that your father could’ve said can shake that.” He held her tighter, inexplicably feeling tears forming in his eyes.

* * *

She knew all about his father, his unrealistic expectations and the toll that had taken on his emotional well-being. Had walked through enough therapy together to realize that any of their issues weren’t rooted with each other, but rather his inability to communicate.

He had told her everything – the late-night screaming matches, the raised hands, the shattering insecurity that came from hearing that you were a constant disappointment from the one person you wanted approval from the most.

He told her how that had manifested into an arrogant and selfish child, a teenager who lashed out at anyone who threatened his own sense of self.

But he hadn't told her about Peter Parker. 

How his death had forever changed him, permanently altering his approach to the world – to people.

How the guilt had consumed him, the grief that had accompanied it, and the agony of knowing that unlike his father – there was no chance of redemption, no hint of making the end of their story different.

Peter Parker had died thinking Eugene ‘Flash’ Thompson had hated him. And it ate him up inside.

She knew he had been through a lot in his life, knew all of the terrible ways he had coped throughout college and his young adult life.

And she loved him anyway.

But she didn't know about Peter Parker. 

* * *

After a few minutes, he loosens his grip on her and looks straight into her eyes. Shana gives a warm smile, brings a hand to his face and says, “Come on, I could think of a couple ways we could make you forget your dad.”

He lets out a laugh but before he could even think to respond, he hears the front door open.

“Mommy! Daddy! Where are you!”

Amelia bursts through their bedroom door, their nanny Emilia running shortly behind.

“I’m so sorry Mr. and Mrs. Thompson, I tried to grab her before she ran but the groceries—” Eugene waved and scooped up the little girl in his arms.

She latched on to him, her little curls bouncing everywhere. Four years old and every much the force of nature that Eugene had been when he was younger.

“Emi said you weren’t going to be home because of work but I was right!” Amelia exclaimed, giggling as Eugene tickled her side.

“Yeah you were, little bean.” He strode past a flushed Emilia with Shana close behind. They started to talk about some event going on Amelia’s school but Eugene’s focus was solely on the little girl in his arms, grounding himself back to his world now. He tapped his fingers three times against her back. 

Shana was right. He was a good man now, a good husband, a good father. When he married Shana, he promised himself that there was no chance in hell that he was going to let the failings of his own childhood ruin the rest of his life.

“Who is Peter Parker, daddy?”

Eugene froze. He looked at his little girl’s face in shock, her wide eyes bright and curious.

“Uh-how did, where did hear that name sweetie?”

“On the radio. Emi was listening to a story about Spider-Man, I love Spider-Man, daddy.” She answered, motioning for him to put her down. He did, they were in her room now, but he pressed the point forward. Amelia may be as sharp as her mother, but she was still four – easily distracted by any conversation for long.

“I know you do sweetie but tell me more about this story. Who mentioned Peter Parker?” Eugene watched as she toddled around the room, finding her favorite plush Spider-Man toy.

“Some man on the radio. He said he was Spider-Man.”

So, Emi – like everyone else in the city, the world probably – had heard the press conference. Eugene wasn’t sure why the news of this getting to his daughter was bothering him until the next words came out of Amelia’s mouth.

“The man said Spider-Man wasn’t a man, but a kid. Like me! Did you know him daddy?”

An innocent question, a child’s question – the type of question and logic that all children have. There was no ulterior motive, no greater reason for Amelia to think Eugene had known Peter. Had made life miserable for Peter. Had tortured himself when Peter had died.

She couldn’t have known these things. When Eugene didn’t answer right away, she asked again.

“Daddy, are you listening?”

He shook himself, bringing himself back into the presence, into his daughter’s bedroom. He sat down on the floor and opened up his arms, beckoning Amelia to crawl into them. She obliged, clutching her Spider-Man tightly to her chest.

A part of Eugene’s heart broke. He hadn’t planned on ever sharing who he had been with his daughter. Hadn’t ever thought he’d speak on the agony and guilt that had consumed him when Peter had died.

Spider-Man dying had shook Eugene’s sense of hope in the world.

Peter Parker dying had shook Eugene.

Here, now – even ten years later – the realization that they were the same person, shifted something else in Eugene.

Spider-Man had died a hero, saving a kid just like himself. Because Spider-Man had been a kid – a kid named Peter Parker from Queens.

Eugene had never forgiven himself for how he treated Peter Parker. He’d convinced himself that he didn’t have to – as long as he made himself a better man, a better husband, a better father, then the sins of his own father that had turned him into the bully that Peter Parker had known until his death, would be erased.

Holding his daughter, looking up at him in awe, curious and light, did more work than any of his years in therapy had ever done.

He didn’t have to tell her everything today. Couldn’t bear to shatter her perception of him just yet. But he could tell her truth.

“Yeah sweetheart, I did. I knew Peter Parker.”

Amelia’s mouth opened wide. “You knew Spider-Man?”

Eugene, eyes glistening, cradled his daughter a little closer. He looked right into Amelia’s eyes and smiled.

“Let me tell you all about him.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well hey, I'm back. Last week was a whirlwind and I can't believe I churned out over 30k words in six chapters, in as much days. What was I thinking? I don't know. First fanfic and all that. 
> 
> This one will be a lot more slow-going, I doubt I would be able to keep up the momentum of posting every day. It'll probably won't be nearly as sad - maybe more melancholy. Once the sharp pain of grief has subsided, the sadness doesn't go away - but it takes on a more subdued tone. I'm really interested in looking at this side of the recovery process, if only because it's so rarely talked about. 
> 
> No Endgame spoilers in the comments please! Come scream at me on tumblr at seek-rest.tumblr.com


	2. Rhodey

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey so, remember when I said this wouldn’t be nearly as sad as the first? 
> 
> That this series would be more a melancholy and quiet reflection of grief once time has passed? 
> 
> …I lied.

“Colonel Rhodes, boss is in need of your assistance.”

James Rhodes stopped in his tracks and looked upward to FRIDAY. He had dinner plans with Tony later, had only stopped by the Tower on a whim. His gut had told him that Tony needed him and while he trusted his gut – more often than not was right to follow it – it still surprised him when FRIDAY made her announcement.

“Sure thing, Fri – which lab is he at?” He grabbed his jacket and started for the elevator when FRIDAY chimed in.

“He is currently on the corner of 42nd and Lexington with Peter Parker. They are in distress, with Peter sustaining massive internal injuries. I estimate driving time to be at 25 minutes, so I would strongly recommend commissioning the War Machine suit.”

“Iron Patriot.” James muttered but then stopped himself. Wait, this didn’t make sense.

“Hold up, Fri did I hear you correctly? You said Tony is with Peter Parker? His lab intern, Peter Parker?”

“That is correct. Peter Parker is in critical condition and boss’ vitals are erratic. Shall I commission the War Machine suit for you?”

There was something James was missing. Something FRIDAY was trying to tell him but without prompting, her programming likely prevented it.

“Yeah bring it out for me, FRIDAY. Can you tell me why Peter’s in such bad shape? What’s going on?”

“I am not at liberty to disclose the nature of why Peter Parker is in distress.”

 _Figures_ , James thought as he stepped into the suit. Tony Stark was not a trusting individual and while James would consider himself one of – if not his only – best friend, Tony’s secrets had secrets. Tony was always holding a people at an arm’s length, convinced that it was better this way – that people just ultimately betrayed you.

As James let the suit envelop, he considered that from Tony’s perspective – he wasn’t wrong.

James didn’t know what was going on, why in the hell Tony’s intern was in such bad shape, but he learned a long time ago to roll with the punches when it came to anything in Tony’s life.

“Alright well plot a course for me will you? And if the kid’s in that much trouble, make sure to alert medical.”

“Already done, Colonel Rhodes. You should arrive in eight minutes.”

James stepped out the window and flew into the unknown.

* * *

 

He was used to it, if he was being honest. Flying out into some dire situation without warning or explanation.

James had been Tony’s best friend since they were teenagers and was well-acquainted with the unique brand of chaos that Tony Stark seemed to bring to the world.

In his younger days, Tony had been unpredictable, flighty, impulsive – every bit as explosive as the weapons he developed. James wouldn’t say Tony had exactly _mellowed_ with age, but a few kidnappings, torture, and flying out into space had certainly changed his friend – and not always for the better.

Tony needed grounding influences in his life, even if he didn’t express that in so many words. James knew it. Pepper knew. Even Happy knew it.

They all had a secret pact – a mutual understanding.

Keep Tony alive. Keep Tony safe. Keep Tony here.

* * *

 

Tony was brilliant, rich, capable of almost inhuman capabilities the tech he developed. But James knew, as well as Pepper, that Tony Stark’s pension for destruction was something that had be kept in equal balance with his desire to prove something.

James knew the root causes, was well-acquainted with the traumas of his youth. But then life just kept fucking kicking Tony Stark down.

New York. Ultron. The Sokovia Accords. Hell, even James’ own injury was something that Tony blamed himself for.

It wasn’t his fault, even then James hadn’t blamed him. But the guilt that passed Tony’s eyes every time he stumbled in physical therapy haunted James still.

Steve’s betrayal had felt like another cliff to talk him down from.

So James was surprised when Tony introduced him to Peter, even more surprised when Tony seemed to care for the kid as a mentor. Tony had made it clear that he wasn’t interested in the business part of SI – including the handling of interns – but however curious James in what brought Peter to Tony’s attention was thrown out the window when he noticed how much Peter’s influence had changed Tony.

* * *

 

“Hey Rhodey, look at what the kid made.” James was only passing by the lab to check and see if Tony was still in, was about to head out for some coffee – and some damn silence for once – when he noticed Tony and Peter – marveling at some technical contraption.

“It’s a continuity projector lens like in school but watch this!” The kid exclaimed excitedly, as Tony beamed with pride. What, exactly, the machine did was completely out of James’ depth. He had studied at MIT right along with Tony, was a highly decorated military aerospace engineer. And yet whatever contraption the kid had invented wasn’t nearly as interesting as the look that James could see on Tony’s face.

If James would’ve guessed, it was almost… _paternal_.

“What do you think, Rhodes? Genius kid here right?” James nodded.

“Oh yeah sure, future of Stark Industries. By the way, do you pay this intern, or do you just mooch off his intellect for new ideas?”

The kid’s ears turned bright red as he turned to James. “Mr. Stark doesn’t pay but I’m really getting a lot of experience Colonel Rhodes.”

“Uh huh,” James smirked. “Is that what Tony told you when he signed you on? How long you been interning with SI anyway, kid?”

The kid’s eyes flashed quickly to Tony before Tony interrupted. “Long enough, Rhodey what is this an interrogation?” He waved his hand over to some screen to point out specs for some new addition to their invention.

Later, James would kick himself for not pushing. For not asking more questions. At the time, his gut told him there was more to the story – that something was missing.

But then James would see the kid laugh, would see Tony smile – a genuine smile, one that lit up his whole face – and he couldn’t bring himself to push, to make something out of nothing.

Clearly the kid was a good influence on Tony. And Tony, with all his resources but complete incapacity to provide emotional support, was somehow a good influence on the kid.

His gut was never wrong.

James should’ve listened.

* * *

 

Before he arrives, he already sees the smoke. The building is intact, James can hear the police sirens approaching. But something happened. Something’s wrong. FRIDAY hadn’t clarified what was going on in the short time that it took to get there.

He flies in to the building to where Tony’s GPS was pinged from and stops. His heart feels like it’s going to jump out of his chest as he walks slowly to where Tony is located.

Tony, in the center of the room, sobbing, cradling someone that looks like Peter Parker.

A Peter Parker dressed in the same suit as Spider-Man.

_Same suit? Why was the kid in the suit? Is he…_

_No..._

FRIDAY, seemingly able to answer the request he hadn’t even spoken aloud, shows the vitals in the room.

Tony’s were all over the place, his blood pressure spiking, his breathing barely contained in the short and frequent sobs.

What took the wind out of James was that there were no vitals coming from Peter at all.

_Why is Peter here? In a suit? A Spider-Man costume? What was the kid doing? Why is Tony here? What is—_

And then it hits him.

…

“Oh God.”

* * *

 

In a half-second, every memory James had of Peter Parker flashed before him. The quick chats as they passed each other in the hallway, the laughter he’d overhear from the kitchen, the smirk smile the kid gave after giving a sarcastic remark to Tony.

James Rhodes trusted himself, trusted his gut, in nearly everything he did. It served him well in his military career, served him in his personal friendships and relationships, and was a telltale indicator for him of who was to be trusted.

James had completely trusted Peter Parker.

Had trusted Tony when he would praise Spider-Man.

And now for the life of him, he wondered why his gut had completely missed the connection between the two.

* * *

 

“Tony.”

He was shaking, sobbing. Cradling Peter’s body back and forth while crouched on the floor.

James was accustomed to death. Had seen enough of it in war zones not to become _used_ to it per se, but enough to have a clear head. To know what to do in crisis situations.

But this. Even this felt like it was beyond his depth.

“Tony, I need you to look at me.”

“Get the fuck away from me.” Tony snarled, and James stopped, putting his hands up. It wouldn’t have mattered, Tony hadn’t stopped looking at Peter, hadn’t stopped brushing his hands over his hair, his face.

 _This is going to devastate him_ , James thought, unsure of what his next tactic should be.

He wasn’t an unfeeling person. Was struggling with the nausea, the horror of the situation that he was in.

Peter Parker was a sixteen-year-old kid, a kid that James knew to be smart and passionate and brilliant as all hell.

Peter Parker was Spider-Man, completely unbeknownst to James but clearly something Tony knew.

But Peter Parker was also unmasked, had died in this room, and James knew the next few minutes were crucial. For Tony’s sake. For Peter.

“Tony, I need you look at me. I need to know what to tell the police.”

Tony ignored him, still shaking, rocking Peter back and forth. Something in James threatened to break, Tony’s devastation was so palpable. The horror of the situation almost threatened to undo James, to lead him to sitting right next to Tony.

But James was a soldier. Disciplined. Methodical. He knew he had to step in right now when Tony clearly couldn’t.

“Tony, I’ll be right back. Okay man? I’ll be right back.” He almost says to not go anywhere but stops himself. Tony hadn’t moved. Wouldn’t move, likely – until James pulled him and Peter were away.

He could hear the sirens clearly now, the cops ready to burst inside. He lands the War Machine suit right in front of the entrance before the first officer can enter into line.

“Officers, I’m going to need you to take a step back.”

“With all due respect sir, we got a call of a disturbance and a possible bomb threat.” James could see the bomb squad mobilizing, ready to move forward.

“The bomb has been contained.” James replies, FRIDAY once again offering information.

It may not have been in her programming to tell him about Peter, but she apparently had no qualms in sharing this. Even her own programming seemed to understand that Tony was in no shape to articulate what had happened.

“Colonel, I understand that you may believe that to be the case, but we still need to check this out. Need I remind you that according to the Sokovia Accords, the police have higher jurisdiction for city issues.”

“I know damn well what the Sokovia Accords say, officer.”

The cop hunches his shoulders a bit, the officers around him clearly embarrassed. James didn’t like using his injury, didn’t see it as anything more than another obstacle to overcome. But he wasn’t about to allow some eager officers storm into the building and invade what he could already tell was going to be the most devastating moment of his best friend’s life.

“Look what you need to know is that there was a bomb threat and it was handled. A bomb did go off and… it’s contained.”

“Sir, I understand but we just need –”

“You don’t need shit, alright? Tony and I will handle the clean up and contact whoever needs to be contacted.” James patience was growing thin.

“I understand sir but really, we need—”

“We’re done with this conversation. If anyone so much as breathes in the direction of this building then I will personally ensure that Stark Industries has your ass for breakfast. Are we clear?”

The officers are quiet, soundly rebuked – until one, young, a rookie most likely – pipes up and asks, “Can you at least tell us if Spider-Man is alright?”

James stops. His breath catches.

“You-You know Spider-Man was here?”

The rookie squirms – hadn’t probably meant to be the center of attention until his curiosity got the better of him.

“We, uh—we got the call from Spider-Man, sir. That there was a bomb and to evacuate the building. We, we just wanted to make sure he was okay.”

James pauses. He knows what he says next will be a defining moment for these officers, for the city, for Peter.

“Spider-Man…” James is at a loss. He didn’t know what happened, even FRIDAY staying silent for once. He just knew what he saw, knew the small body his best friend was now holding.

James – someone he knew that Tony trusted with his life – hadn’t told him about the truth of Spider-Man’s identity, about Peter. Damn if James was going to be the one to undo that.

“Spider-Man didn’t make it.”

* * *

 

In a city full of sights and sounds, of people bustling and running over themselves to get to their destination, James had never thought he would’ve had a quiet moment in it.

But as he spoke those words and watched the desolation form in the officers faces, James suddenly knew that a new quiet was going to pass over New York.

* * *

 

The hush that fell over the officers was instantaneous, so much so that the distinctive blaring of the sirens almost mocking them.

“He’s… he’s gone?” Another officer asked, a few turning to James in disbelief.

James nodded, everything in him wishing he could ditch the suit and look these officers in the eyes while he gave them the news. But he had a job to do. He swallowed down the grief threatening to bubble up, the empathy he felt for the officers who were going into shock and straightened himself up.

“Keep the perimeter until we’re out, FRIDAY – let them know when we’re out alright?”

“We?” An officer asked, tears streaming down their face.

“To—Iron Man. He’s here. Tried to save him.”

The shock was palpable. “And he—he didn’t?”

James nodded one more time then turned to fly back in. He was wasting time here, couldn’t deal with the devastation settling on these officers’ faces when he had another, more pressing one he had to take care of.

“On FRIDAY’s notice only, you hear me? Spider-Man’s body doesn’t deserve to be blasted on every newspaper from now till kingdom come with this. Give the man some dignity in death, I know you all didn’t in life.”

The words are harsher than James’ feels but he’s spent enough time here and he need to get back. Back to Tony. Back to Peter. _Back to Spider-Man._

* * *

 

James arrives to find Tony in the exact position he left him, seemingly oblivious to anything and anyone aside from the small body he was cradling.

 _He’s so small_ , James thought before taking a deep breath, stabling himself for what he had to do next.

He had to get the kid out of here. Had to get Tony to leave. But as he listened to Tony’s soft cries, James wondered how much of a monster he could really be.

* * *

 

He called Happy first – the shock of this particular conversation not getting any less frustrating, less difficult. _Keep on mission, soldier_.

Called Pepper next. He had to prepare for the state Tony was in, a part of their unspoken promise between the two of them to keep Tony alive. To keep Tony safe. To keep Tony here.

“Pepper, it’s bad. Where are you?”

“I was about to fly t—”

“Cancel it. Whatever it is, cancel it. Tony’s…” James wasn’t sure how to express what he was seeing, the cracked and raw agony all over Tony’s face as he continued to sob, rocking as he held Peter in his arms.

“Is Tony okay? What was he doing?”

James steels himself. “Tony’s fine but Peter’s—Peter’s not with us anymore, Pepper. He’s gone.”

The silence on the other end of the end of the phone was deafening.

“Peter?” She whispered. “Peter Parker? Wha—what happened? What was he doing? Why is Tony with him?”

_Oh God. Does she know?_

“I don’t know, I don’t know what happened, but I need you to be here with Tony when we get back. I called Happy to come ‘round back so the press doesn’t get wind of this.”

“The press?” She shrieked. “What does the press have to do with this? He—Peter needs to get to the hospital, to see a doctor. You and Tony both, always convinced that the medical team here can somehow tackle everything when a nice and normal physician could handle problems just fine.”

She was angry, the shock settling into her voice.

James – _keep on mission_ – pushed forward.

“We can’t go to the hospital, Pep.”

“And why the hell not?” She snarled. James closed his eyes. _She doesn’t know, does she?_

“Because if the faces of the cops I talked to outside are any indication, I don’t think they’d be able to handle seeing Spider-Man. The kid’s identity was a secret and… it should stay that way.”

Pepper was silent for so long; James double checked his HUD monitor to make sure it was still connected. Then he heard Pepper’s voice softly whisper.

“Peter was Spider-Man?”

_No. She didn’t know._

* * *

He had to get Tony out of there. Had to get Tony back to the Tower.

Tony was immovable. Still lost in his own little world of horror and pain.

“Tones, come on man. Happy’s almost here.”

He was out of the suit now, a hand placed on Tony’s shoulder.

James had seen death, had been around him long enough to know what to do when someone was faced with inconceivable loss.

He’d seen Tony through the worst moments of his life, through the deepest and darkest places of despair. James had always been able to talk him, had always been able to redirect him and ground him back to reality.

James watched helplessly as Tony continued to rock Peter, the boy that Tony had so clearly loved as a son, wondering if there was anything to say at all.

_How can I ground him, bring him back to this reality, when the reality is so horrifying?_

Tony hadn’t shaken James’ hand off of his shoulder, which he considered to be progress. But Tony still hadn’t looked at him, his eyes seemingly permanently fixed to Peter’s pale face.

James turned to Peter and felt a pang of remorse. _I’m sorry we didn’t save you, kid._

FRIDAY alerted him of Happy’s arrival and James took another solid breath.

It was time to move.

“Tones? Tony, come on man. Happy’s here. We need to go.”

“I’m not leaving him. I can’t leave, Rhodey. He’s—I promised.” Tony’s voice cracked, the agony spilling out of him.

“We’re not leaving him Tony. Come on, we need to get out of here. We need to get the Tower, all of us. Peter…”

“Don’t.” Tony whispers, James heart broke at hearing the pain in his voice.

“I know man, I’m just saying – we can’t leave him here. We need to go. Come on Tones, let’s—let’s take him home.”

Tony clutches Peter a little tighter then, his breath continuing to shake.

“I’m not letting him go.”

“You don’t have to man.” James could see Happy in the corner, the man’s face frozen in horror. “Come on, I’ll help you take him.”

“No I got him, I—I got him.” James could only watch as Tony struggled to get up, wanted to reach out and help his friend do what was likely the hardest thing he would ever have to face. But James knew that Tony needed to do this for himself, that he wouldn’t rob his friend of keeping whatever promise that Tony had given to the kid.

As James walked slowly behind Tony, he could Tony’s soft voice – whispering, agonizing.

“Come on Pete, I got you. I’m not letting go. I’m right here… let’s go home.”

* * *

 

The car ride to the Tower was quiet. Aching. The silence only punctured by Tony’s soft murmuring.

James couldn’t bear to watch as Tony softly caressed Peter’s face. Couldn’t bear to tear his eyes away from Tony as he cried.

Peter Parker had died tonight.

As they pulled up to the Tower, James wondered if a part of Tony had died tonight too.

* * *

 

Phone calls were made. The medical team was useless, but a room was made available nonetheless.

James wasn’t sure who called the kid’s family – his mom? – but he knew he couldn’t bring himself to watch another person weep over a boy whose life was gone too soon.

As he dragged Tony away from the room where Peter lay, dragged him away with Pepper and Happy as Tony screamed at them, James steeled himself.

“Get the fuck off of me! LET ME GO! I can’t… I told him I wouldn’t leave him! LET ME GO!” Tony was struggling, but without his suit – he couldn’t overpower the three people who loved him the most. Someone sedated him, the medical team carried him off to another room.

Happy left, James wasn’t sure where. Pepper left with Tony.

All that left was James, exhausted and spent – both emotionally and physically.

The crisis was over. Tony was safe. Tony was alive. Tony was here.

As James sat down on a bench in the hallway, some decoration of Pepper’s choosing – he could still hear the agonizing cries in the other room– of a woman who was facing the unimaginable.

He thought of Tony, how the image of holding Peter would forever haunt his memories.

Tony was safe. Tony was alive.

But Peter wasn’t. And James wondered if knowing that could keep Tony here.

James closed his eyes.

Put his face in his hands. 

And wept.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whew boy did this take me straight back to the worst day. If you’re new here, this is a sequel to the ‘Five People who Missed Peter Parker the Most’ and this chapter is basically Rhodey’s POV from ‘the worst day’. 
> 
> When I was writing Tony’s chapter in the last one, I wondered how Rhodey would’ve handled the whole thing – not only the realization of who Spider-Man was, but the unbridled grief that his best friend was facing. I finished the fic, convinced that there was no real need for a sequel to an already devastating story.
> 
> But then I got a few kind, inspiring comments about what happens next… nudging me back into the direction of a sequel… so really, this is all your fault. 
> 
> Also I know Pepper definitely knew Peter was Spider-Man based on Homecoming alone but this is a universe where Peter actually DIES so clearly we're not canon compliant in these parts. 
> 
> Finally saw Endgame and loved it and am crying so if you want to scream with me, find me at seek-rest.tumblr.com.


	3. Pepper

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know, I know - Pepper knew who Peter was after Homecoming. But let's reiterate that this is a story in which Peter Parker actually DIES so you know, we're not exactly canon-compliant here.

“Hey Pep, can you come here real quick?”

Pepper glanced up from the book she was reading to where Tony was standing. He had just walked in, StarkPad in hand. He was absentmindedly moving his fingers, an odd trilling motion that Pepper enjoyed watching.

_Always moving. You cannot ever stay still, can you?_

“Sure thing.” She lifted herself off the couch and walked to Tony, putting a hand at the back of his neck.

As she softly ruffled through his hair, Pepper smiled. It had been a long journey, getting them to this point. _How did I get so lucky?_

As his eyes met hers, as he softly smiled back, she knew the feeling was mutual.

“Look at what May sent over. Happy sent a photo too – they’re everywhere.” Pepper glanced down to the screen, her smile growing larger even as her eyes flicked over to Tony.

He seemed content, at peace. Pepper watched as his eyes scrolled over the StarkPad, looked for any change but Pepper couldn’t see any sign of a tremor, of anything brewing under the surface. She let out an exhale and brought her hand to his face.

“He would’ve gotten such a kick out of this, Pep.” Tony’s eyes met hers again, glistening and filled with pride. Pepper could feel the tears forming in her eyes.

“I think so too.” Tony leaned his head into her hand, putting his hand over hers. The StarkPad was set down as Pepper leaned forward, giving a soft kiss on his lips.

“I just want to do right by him, Pep. That’s all I wanted… just – something right for him.” Their foreheads met, and Pepper closed her eyes.

“You already have Tony. You already have.”

* * *

Virginia Potts-Stark was sure of three things in her life.

The first – that there was nothing she wouldn’t do for her family.

The second – that she was good at what she did, was great at business, could strike fear into the hearts of those who went against her.

The third – that Peter Parker had been a great kid. And that Tony had done everything she could for him.

Pepper had peace with herself a long time ago that she could never convince Tony to be careful, to not be so self-destructive or to rush face first into danger.

She’d seen him through his very lowest, had walked in on too many embarrassing encounters to name, and yet – she had been convinced that Tony’s penchant for destruction would eventually be the end of him.

Then Peter Parker had died. And Pepper realized how little she knew of Tony after all.

* * *

Pepper berated herself for weeks afterwards, was in disbelief that she had missed the obvious – the signs.

Tony never cared about interns, never cared about kids. When Peter Parker walked into his life – out of nowhere, it seemed – Pepper had questioned it. Was convinced that the only reason a teenager, a child really could capture his attention was if somehow Tony had had a hand in bringing the kid into the world.

“Pep, for the last time – you really think I’d keep something like that a secret from you?” Tony was dismissive, as he always was – grabbing orange juice from the fridge.

They were together again, in the inevitable way they always returned to each other. Pepper watched him from the doorway, taking him in. His fingers were trilling, tapping on the glass as he poured himself something to drink.

It was a tell. Pepper knew he was hiding… something. But as she searched his face, she was also convinced that he was telling the truth.

“If he isn’t your kid, then may I ask why you’re so insistent on spending so much time with him? You’ve never cared about the SI internship program before?” She folds her arms, tilts her head to the side. Tony gives a glance to her defensive posture before taking a sip.

“I just think the kid has potential.”

“Potential because he’s yours?”

“For fuc—no Pepper. Dammit why can’t you just accept that I’m turning a new leaf? Invested in the future of SI?” He slams the glass down, his hands shaking just a bit.

Pepper is unmoving, staring right back at him – his face fixed towards hers.

He’s not lying. Pepper can tell. There’s something there. Something she can’t quite place. But Pepper has been in this fight before, more times than she can count. She knows when she can win.

She won’t win this one.

She unfurls her arms, the movement relaxing Tony – knowing he’s won.

“He’s a good kid, Pep. You’d like him. I’m telling you, he could rule the world someday.” She doesn’t answer, just watches as he takes another drink of his orange juice – dumping the last bit of it in the sink.

He gives her a kiss on the cheek as he walks out, Pepper grabbing hold of his arm before he can leave.

“I trust you, Tony. But there’s something you’re hiding. I just wish you could trust me too.”

Tony’s eyes pass over hers, before looking away.

“He’s not my kid, Pep. Promise.” 

As Tony walked away, Pepper wondered what else it could’ve been.

* * *

In the immediate, quiet moments, as she sat by his bedside – just moments after Tony had been wrenched away from that horrid cold room – that conversation in the kitchen, all those months ago, ran over and over her head.

Peter Parker hadn’t been Tony’s kid. But he hadn’t only been an intern.

Peter Parker had been Spider-Man. Tony had clearly known it, nurtured it. Had supported him.

As she rested her chin in her hands, watching as Tony’s breathing stabilized, she wondered why Tony hadn’t trusted her with this.

* * *

Pepper would never have admitted it, but she had a soft spot for Spider-Man.

She made a point of staying out of Tony’s Avengers business, only tangentially aware of things in as much as it affected Stark Industries.

It’s not that she didn’t care, that she wasn’t deeply invested into the team that had such a profound affect on Tony.

But aside from Tony, aside from their effect on the future of the company, she was willfully oblivious. After her run-ins in Monte Carlo, at Stark Expos – she had her fill of superheroes and their antics.

But Spider-Man, the quiet little hero who always seemed ready to throw himself into burning buildings – who seemed ready to solve any problem, big or small – she had always liked him.

* * *

Peter Parker and Spider-Man had been one in the same. She hadn’t known Peter well, knew him only tangentially as the teenager who had seemingly captivated Tony’s attention.

But she had known Spider-Man, knew intimately how beloved he was around the city.

As the night wore on, as she heard Peter’s aunt cry in the other room, Pepper’s heart broke.

For the city. For the loss of a hero.

But mostly for the loss of Peter. The loss of a young man Pepper had never really had the chance to know.

* * *

Spider-Man’s death was a PR nightmare.

The kid – _he was just a kid_ – had generated a lot of goodwill in his lifetime, his death only magnifying how beloved he truly was.

But Tony’s presence on that wretched day, that had caused a rift in the public’s perception of Iron Man.

Pepper didn’t care, wasn’t even concerned on how the company’s stocks were falling. For the first time in her professional career, she could’ve cared less what happened with Stark Industries.

But the effect that the gossip, the lies had on Tony – Pepper couldn’t live with herself if she let their lies stand.

In the days, the weeks immediately after Peter’s death, Tony was in a daze. He didn’t eat, barely slept. It took all that was within her – the combined efforts of her and James – to make sure Tony didn’t walk off the balcony of the Tower.

After Afghanistan, after the Mandarin, Justin, New York… Pepper was convinced there was nothing in Tony’s life that she couldn’t handle.

Seeing Tony, constantly murmuring about Peter – wracked with grief and hurt – listen to news reports of how Tony had somehow _caused_ Spider-Man’s death, sparked an anger in Pepper she hadn’t realized was within her.

“I couldn’t save him, Pep. I couldn’t save him.” Tony was clutching her phone, Happy on the other line. She hung up the phone, making a note to call Happy later.

“You did all that you could, Tony. Look at me, look—” she grabbed his face into her hands, crouching down to his level. Tony was on the ground, despondent – his eyes vacant.

“You did everything you could for him, you hear me? You kept him safe for so long. You couldn’t have done anything more to help him.”

The bleakness in Tony’s eyes, the cracked and raw grief threatening to overtake him made Pepper want to cry.

“I didn’t—he’s gone, Pep. I c-couldn’t…” He trails off, the wave of tears and agony washing over him. Pepper held him close, wishing she could take the pain away, his sobs shaking his entire body.

She closed her eyes, leaning her chin on his head.

“I couldn’t save him. They’re right. They’re all fucking right.”

She holds him tighter.

“They’re wrong, Tony. Don’t listen to them.” Tony tries to push himself out of her arms, but Pepper only holds on tighter.

“You did all that you could Tony. Everything. You did everything for him.” She takes his face in her hands once more, searching his eyes.

“Don’t listen to them. Listen to me, Tony.” His eyes are vacant but there’s some recognition there. She presses forward.

“You did _everything_ you could for him, you understand? Everything. Don’t listen to those assholes on the news alright?”

“Pep—”

“Ignore them Tony. You always do. Ignore this. Just be here, be here with me.” She presses a kiss to his forehead and hugs him, his arms closing in around her, as if she was the only thing tethering him to this world.

The anger within her blazes.

They were going to have hell to pay.

* * *

“Ms. Potts, but you have to understand our point of view? Iron Man and Spider-Man went into that building and only Iron Man walks out? You can’t tell me that isn’t a little suspicious? Spider-Man was a hero! Iron Man has clearly only benefited from his demise.”

The pressroom is uneasy, murmuring in disbelief. Pepper is fuming, gritting her teeth before she responds.

“What I don’t understand is why you are even here, Jameson. Spider-Man was most definitely a hero and yet your own publication record shows that you clearly had no affection for Spider-Man when he was alive.” She grips the podium.

“Or are you so out of ideas, so hellbent on damaging the reputation of anyone who you deem to be unworthy, that you would have the audacity to say that Tony – that Iron Man – _benefits_ from a world without Spider-Man? Are you delusional?”

Jameson is undeterred. “I’m just saying, now with Spider-Man out of the way – Iron Man can be the darling of New York again.”

The press is uneasy now, Jameson clearly crossing a line that none of them had dared touch.

Peter had been gone over a year now, the memorial bringing him visitors by the hundreds every day. Tony had dropped out of public life, had only barely begun to eat on his own.

The rumors of what happened that night had started to swirl immediately, the conspiracy theorists – Jameson included – in full force before Peter had even been put in the ground.

Pepper – with the help of James, of FRIDAY – had released a statement on what had happened. Had watched the footage of what had happened in that building, had cried as she relived Tony’s worst moments.

The world knew of what Peter had done. But they hadn’t known why Iron Man had been there, why Iron Man hadn’t saved him.

Pepper had been consumed with keeping Tony alive, with keeping the Tony afloat – that she hadn’t bothered with the rumors. It had been a year since Peter had died and Tony still seemed hellbent on joining him.

Nothing had been more important than Tony.

But now – almost a year later with no end in sight – she couldn’t take it anymore.

“I am going to say this one time and one time only.” She stares right at Jameson, his smirk falling as he takes in the expression on her face.

“Spider-Man died a hero. And Tony Stark – Iron Man – did everything he could to save him. For you – of all people – to have the _audacity_ to claim that Tony could have anything to do with his death, as if you – YOU – were of any support to him in life – is laughable. Unimaginable to me.”

Jameson’s mouth is open, he goes to speak before Pepper puts a hand up.

“You listen here you piece of shit. There is absolutely nothing that anyone at Stark Industries owes you. There is no explanation, no example, nothing I could express to illustrate how wrong you are in thinking that Tony had something to do with Spider-Man’s death. I won’t even dignify your question with a response.”

She turns her attention to the others in the room.

“I will say this. In all the time that you have known Tony, have known Spider-Man, you’ve known how much they worked together. How Spider-Man was equipped head to toe with Stark tech. Tell me, Jameson – did you know who Spider-Man was?”

Jameson’s lips are pressed firmly together. Pepper continues.

“No? Of course you didn’t. If you did, you wouldn’t have made a career of diminishing his legacy. But Tony did. Knew who Spider-Man was beyond the mask.” Her voice wavers.

“And if a year later you all are still mourning the man you didn’t know, imagine how Tony feels – how Tony still is – anytime he has to hear your drivel in the news.”

The room is silent, only a few shutters from cameras.

“So the next time you _think_ you are confused about what happened, are convinced that you have some kind of new theory to present – consider this.” She stares right at Jameson.

“Spider-Man died over a year ago. And Tony? He was the one who held him as he died. The one who had to alert his family, the one who had to carry his body back to the Tower - in secret so that you vultures wouldn’t snap a picture of a dead man.”

The fire in her eyes in unmistakable, Jameson starting to shrink in his seat.

“Ask yourself if you’re that much of a monster, that much a despicable human being – to think that this same man, Tony Stark – the one who has saved your asses more times than you can count, who carried the body of probably the greatest man any of us will ever know – could’ve ever had a hand in his death. Because if you know all of this and _still_ choose to believe those lies, then I have nothing to say to you.” 

She walked off the podium and left the room.

* * *

The _Bugle_ shut down in the next few weeks, Pepper’s conference having gone viral.

She couldn’t say she wasn’t pleased, wasn’t happy to see that not only had Jameson’s colleagues turned their back on him – but that the public had taken her message to heart too.

But as she continued to watch Tony – a year later, wracked with misery and grief – Pepper couldn’t bring herself to celebrate.

The press had been one problem to solve, one thing she could manage to aid in his recovery. But as the months crawled forward, Pepper wondered if there was any chance of recovery at all.

* * *

She had never met May Parker when Peter was alive but became instant friends after his death.

Pepper had paid for all the funeral arrangements, had made sure that there were funds attributed to May to help her as she transitioned to a life without her nephew.

Pepper couldn’t even imagine the pain she was in, the horror that she was facing.

As Tony slowly returned back her – to the world – she was thankful for whatever strength May had.

Seeing May take on a memorial fund for Peter sparked something in Tony, a light that Pepper had believed had died all those years ago.

When May Parker brought up the idea of bringing Peter’s identity to light, Tony seemed to come alive.

“It’s the right thing to do, Pep. I know it. I’m convinced of it.” She watched as he paced the kitchen, his fingers trilling in that familiar way.

“You know you can’t push her Tony. Whatever she wants, we have to support her.” Tony nods, a little too vigorously.

“No, no I know that Pep. I know, whatever she wants but…” His eyes reach hers, Pepper’s heart fluttering as she sees an old glimpse of Tony, of a flame that had long since run out.

“We can finally do right by him.”

* * *

They did. Do right by Peter.

The press conference, Tony’s second in years.

As Pepper watched with pride, her heart swelling as May Parker took the stand, she gave a glance toward Tony. He stepped beside her, his hand reaching towards hers. She clasped her hands into his and squeezed.

Tony gave her an old familiar smile. Pepper returned it.

They were going to do right by this kid. By Peter.

Maybe recovery - a recovery, something - was in reach after all. 

* * *

In the years after the announcement, once the world learned of who Spider-Man really was – Pepper was convinced there was nothing else that could surprise her. Nothing else that she could share with Tony that would ever be as earth-shattering as that fateful day. When she had learned the truth about Peter, when she before she had been convinced that Tony had been hiding something from her.

But then suddenly there was.

And their lives changed in a new way.

* * *

“Are you sure, Pep? I didn’t think… I wasn’t…”

“I’ve taken five tests, Tony. I’m sure.” He looks up at her in disbelief.

“Do you want this?” She smiles.

“Do you?”

Tony looks at her then looks away, Pepper watching as his eyes start to see beyond the moment they’re in. She knows where he’s going, knows that he’s there all the time – no matter how many years have passed. Knows in her heart that he'll never truly leave that dark room. 

“I don’t know if I can do this. Be a father, Pep? I’m not… I can’t—”

“You can, Tony. I know it. You want to know how?” His eyes are filled with tears as he meets hers.

“Because of Peter.” Tony’s face crumbles.

“Pep, I—”

“No listen to me, Tony. Peter? Remember how I was convinced that you were hiding something from me? That Peter had really been your kid?”

Tony’s face twitches. He takes a shaky breath then says, “Yeah, I—I shouldn’t have kept the truth from you, Pep.”

She shakes her head. “That’s not why I’m bringing it up, Tony. That’s not what I’m trying to say.” As she always does, bringing his attention focused right back on her, Pepper softly places her hands to his face. His eyes search hers as she smiles.

“I was wrong, Tony. Peter may not have been your _kid_ , per se. But he was. He was a son to you.” Her lips tremble as she takes in his broken expression.

“And if you – Tony Stark – can love a boy so much, still love him so much that you have made every waking second of your life dedicated to keeping his memory alive – I have no doubt that you would do all that and more for any child of ours.”

She caresses his cheek with her thumb, him closing his eyes as she does so.

“You’re going to be an amazing father Tony. I know it.” Pepper smiles.

“Because you already are.”

* * *

“Papa down!” Pepper laughs as Tony wrestles with keeping their toddler in his arms. Morgan was two and already a force of nature.

Every bit of her father’s daughter.

“Ok ok, papa’s putting you down. Don’t hurt yourself, kiddo.” Morgan almost flies out of his arms, running towards the familiar monument.

They’re in Central Park, taking a walk as they often do.

It’s not a weekly occurrence, the constraints of running both a business and a toddler overtaking any semblance of maintaining a weekly schedule.

But as Pepper watched while Tony ran after their little girl, running towards a place she was wholly familiar with, she couldn’t help but smile.

“Petey!” Morgan ran up to the memorial, trampling over some cards as she threw her little hands over the stone plaque he was placed on.

“Yeah that’s Petey alright.” Tony picks her up, looking up to the memorial.

A familiar pang runs through Pepper’s heart as she hears Tony softly whisper, “Hey Pete.”

“Petey spid’r man!” Tony laughs, brushing Morgan’s hair out of her face.

“Story!”

“Another story, kid? I promise, I’ve told you them all a million times.” Tony glances back towards Pepper who grins and shrugs.

“She gets that from you, you know.” Tony gives Pepper a look.

“Inquisitive? A vibrant young mind?”

“Being stubborn.” Tony snorts, Morgan is insistent.

“STORY!”

“Alrighty you little tyrant, I’ll tell you a story. How about the time Pete almost burnt down the lab?”

“Petey lab!” Morgan exclaims as Tony sits down in front of the memorial, holding Morgan close.

Pepper has heard the story almost as many times as Morgan has, her attention drifting back to the statue they’re in front of.

It had been three years since the world learned about Peter Parker, the truth about who Spider-Man had really been.

The world had mourned all over again, a bittersweet sadness that hadn’t lifted. As Tony regaled Morgan Peter’s antics, Pepper wondered if it ever would.

The memorial had been renovated, an engraving added to include Peter’s name. Someone – she wasn’t sure who – had put a picture of Peter, a candid of him smiling – glancing towards the camera.

Pepper’s heart was overwhelmed. With sadness yes, but with love as well.

Peter Parker had only been sixteen, a tragic loss that had haunted her from the moment she learned the truth.

As she watched Tony interact with Morgan, watched as her eyes lit up with the mere mention of Peter, Pepper was thankful – so thankful – that they had had any time with him at all. For the influence that he had been on Tony’s life, how much he had transformed the man she loved.

She would forever wish that she had gotten to know Peter better when he was alive. That Tony would’ve trusted her with that knowledge then.

Would forever wish that Peter hadn’t met such a tragic end, that there was some other path, some other way, would give anything to have him back into their lives, into May’s.

She wished forever that Morgan could've known Peter. That Peter could've grown up and have a Morgan of his own. 

She couldn’t have imagined that this is where her life could’ve taken her. Couldn’t have dreamed that her world would change as it had. But she was thankful. Despite everything, she was thankful.

Pepper looked over to his picture, to the bright smile that now captured the hearts of millions. She let the tears fall, a soft smile on her lips.

“Thank you Peter. For everything.”  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pepper Protection Squad 2k19
> 
> ENDGAME SPOILERS
> 
> The relationship between Pepper and Tony is completely underrated imo. The trajectory of their relationship from Iron Man to Endgame is... so bittersweet. I hadn't planned on including a child in their story until I saw Endgame. While I was watching, all I could imagine is how grateful Pepper would be towards Peter - to the boy Tony had loved and lost - and how in his own way, how he had changed Tony in innumerable ways. 
> 
> Granted, Endgame ended a lot differently for Peter and Tony - but UGH how could I not bring that same ideal into my own sad little universe? 
> 
> I couldn't. Ergo, this chapter. 
> 
> If you're wanting something a bit more upbeat, wrote my first one-shot a few days ago! Though in my head, it is 100% related to this series - I figured it would be a nice palate cleanser regardless, just a short little 'slice of life'. It’s called “The Perfect Day” and I had the best time writing it. s/o to @blondsak for encouraging me to write more! 
> 
> Have an idea? Angry because I killed Peter? Yeah I know. Scream at me on [tumblr](seek-rest.tumblr.com)!


	4. Natasha

It had started with voicemail. A prompt to check in. 

Well, not a prompt exactly. Natasha didn’t need to be _tipped off_ when things went wrong in the lives of those she knew. Those she loved.

She’d never admit the latter, not openly. _Especially_ in relation to Tony Stark.

But she did. Love him. Not romantically, like her job had required her to act like when she first met Tony. But she loved him. Like a friend - a brother even.

She knew what affected Tony Stark better than Tony probably did.

When she was made aware that the death of Spider-Man was personal for Tony, had more of an influence on him than just a fellow hero dying - Natasha had to know more about what had happened. Had to know more about the guy whose death had such a profound effect on Tony, that he had effectively disappeared from existence.

For someone whose job was to disappear almost daily, Tony’s removal from public life was surprising even to her.

* * *

Natasha was a spy, not a robot.

She wasn’t completely removed from public life, from what affected normal, everyday people.

She had been aware of Spider-Man, knew about the guy’s connection with Tony from their slight encounter in the airport. Natasha had always meant to follow-up on it, the overeager banter and lilt of Spider-Man’s voice that Natasha recognized as being young, _much_ too young to be involved in a fight that he clearly had no business being in.

Natasha knew what that felt like better than anyone.

But she hadn’t had the time to bug Tony about it or to figure it out on her own.

When your best friend gets labeled a war criminal and goes on the run, priorities shift.

For probably the first time in her professional life, Natasha let a detail slip through the cracks.

Two years later - when Spider-Man was dead and Tony went underground, Natasha started to notice again.

* * *

It was Pepper who had tipped her off.

They hadn’t gotten along when they had first met - for obvious reasons. But they’d developed a real friendship in the years after, part of an unspoken agreement to make sure Tony didn’t inadvertently cause his own demise.

After Spider-Man had died, Natasha was immediately aware of its effect on Tony - on the world, really - but Pepper hadn’t expressly asked anything of her so Natasha left well enough alone.

She may have been trained as a spy, but she wasn’t particularly nosy. Sleuthing was her job, something she was very good at but not something she particularly cared about - even for the ones she loved.

Besides, Steve had enough on his plate, what with the Accords being put under scrutiny. The death of Spider-Man had made public opinion turn in favor for the Avengers - a small source of luck on Steve’s campaign to get the whole thing underwritten.

If Natasha was honest, she still agreed with Tony. Still though believed in the idea of oversight and accountability when it came to handling threats. Part of her even wondered if Steve even believed his own arguments sometimes.

But Natasha knew better than anyone how stubborn Steve was - how much he really was just a mirror image of Tony, flipped on the side of justice whereas Tony leaned towards chaos.

Spider-Man’s death had clearly changed things for Steve too, even as they still used it to their advantage. She didn’t ask how well he knew the guy or if Steve had been in touch with Tony, but Natasha knew how to read between the lines.

For a guy they had only a nascent connection too, the loss of Spider-Man was still deeply felt – for reasons Natasha couldn’t necessarily articulate. Something shifted when he died, but with everything else – Natasha felt that she really didn’t need to delve into why. 

Yet when Pepper reached out - an actual voicemail to a number Natasha had long since distanced from herself but still checked every so often - she finally took notice.

* * *

_“Hey Nat, it’s Pepper. I don’t even know if this number is still good for you but I—I just wanted to get some insight from you. It’s about Tony… and Spider-Man. I don’t know how much you already know, probably more than any of us but – I just want to check something. Wasn’t sure where to start. So, call me back when you can. My number’s still the same. Hope all is well.”_

Natasha didn’t call back right away, hadn’t heard the message till a few months after Pepper had left it. But when she did, she was sure that the time between Pepper leaving the voicemail and the time she would be responding to it was well beyond what was considerate. A part of her knew that Pepper wouldn’t mind, that she was likely used to the nature of Natasha’s mode of communication by now.

But it was something in the tone of Pepper’s voice, something in the way she had phrased her mention of Tony and Spider-Man that gave Natasha pause.

It was that seed of doubt that had been planted all those years ago, back when their little world hadn’t completely fallen apart - that there was something more to Spider-Man that Natasha hadn’t figured out. Something that made the loss of him mean more than just a fallen hero.  

She’d noticed that Tony had disappeared, that Iron Man had seemingly retired overnight.

Before this, Natasha had wondered if even death itself would keep Tony from throwing himself into danger to protect the world around him.

Spider-Man, small time as he was, had seemed to be the same way. There was a connection there, something that she had been meaning to unravel and for one reason or another – had just never followed through.

* * *

Whatever the case it was, Natasha found herself walking up to Pepper’s office one morning - right after she knew Pepper would be out of her daily morning meeting.

“Tell Jansen to get the files back to me by noon, we don’t need another repeat of the Wynsec account alright?” Pepper was oblivious to Natasha’ presence, focused on her assistant as she breezed past the door.

The assistant froze when he noticed Natasha. She gave him a smile, one that she thought had been disarming. Either Natasha was rusty with her charm or the assistant somehow knew she was because the assistant just stood there, a look of fear on his face.

“Mike, you alright?” Pepper seemed to notice how her assistant had stopped walking, turning into the direction of his gaze. Her eyes met Natasha’s and her lips pressed firmly together.

“Mike clear my morning. I’ll see you at noon.” She turned to him. “Get the files from Jansen.”

Mike didn’t move, still frozen in place. Natasha quirked an eyebrow at him while Pepper sighed.

“ _Now_ , Mike.” That seemed to get him out of his shock, turning quickly to exit the office and closing the door after him.

“I’m guessing he knows who I am?” Natasha asks. Pepper walks around to her desk.

“You’d guess right.”

There’s no warmth in her tone, but no fire either. Natasha takes in Pepper’s appearance, a studied observation that was second nature to her.

Pepper’s hair was swept back, her posture both comfortable yet tense. She was in her element – this office, running this company – but had clearly been taken by surprise with Natasha’s appearance. Pepper looked tired, her makeup doing extra work to cover the bags under her eyes. Natasha noticed that the coffee at her desk had gone untouched, a signal that Pepper had either been too busy or too stressed to really sit down and enjoy it. As Pepper sighed before sitting down, Natasha guessed it was likely a mix of both.

“I’d say to what do I owe the pleasure but I’m pretty sure I know why you’re here. At least, I hope I do.”

Natasha leaned back in her chair. “You called me.”

“Almost six months ago.”

Natasha shrugs. “It’s an old number. Sorry I didn’t catch it sooner.”

Pepper seems unbothered, or to Natasha’s estimation – was trying hard not to be. “It’s fine, I know you’re busy. I just—I needed help with something but it’s fine. I figured it out.”

Natasha tilts her head. “What did you figure out?”

It was a tactic. A way to get people to talk about what was bothering them. Natasha rarely offered help, but she had a soft spot for Pepper. She didn’t mean to just draw it out of her, as a calculated move to get more information. She was actually genuinely curious in what had motivated Pepper to reach out after so long.

Plus, the last time she hitched her wagon to someone without all the details, she had ended up on the road for the better part of three years.

She wanted to know what she was getting into before committing this time around.

“Well, I was just really curious about the details concerning Spider-Man’s death.”

Natasha hadn’t expected that.

“Details? Wasn’t Tony there when it happened?” A glimpse of… something passed over Pepper’s face. Remorse? Hurt?

“He… was. No, I don’t mean the details of _that_ in particular, just some background info. But it’s fine, I managed to figure it out on my own.”

Pepper folded her hands on her desk - a defense mechanism.

“You really didn’t have to come out, Nat.”

This just made her more curious.

“I told you, I was sorry it took me so long.” Natasha shifted in her seat, leaning a bit closer. “What’d you figure out?”

Pepper seemed to consider something, Natasha watching as she could see the gears behind her eyes turn.

A beat.

“What do you know about Spider-Man?”

The question catches Natasha off guard, if only because the answer was a source of embarrassment for her.

“Not much.” Pepper nodded.

“Part of me figured as much. I mean, don’t get me wrong I know you’re—” Pepper gestured towards her general direction. “You know. I know that you’re good at what you do.”

“But…?” Natasha prompts. Pepper bites her lip.

“Well… when you didn’t reach out after he died, I figured you couldn’t have known… everything. You would’ve, had you did. I know that about you, now.”

The curiosity was killing her now.

“Know what exactly?”

Pepper looked straight into her eyes.

“That Spider-Man and Tony had been more than just colleagues. That he—Tony—had kind of taken him under his wing. Watched over him… cause Spider-Man hadn’t been… well.” Pepper gives a soft laugh.

“What?”

“The name. I don’t know why it still gets me after all this time.”

Natasha waits.

“Spider-Man hadn’t been a man. He - Peter - had been a kid.”

It’s as if the air was sucked out of the room. Natasha, despite herself, leans forward.

“A kid?”

Pepper gives a nod. A look of sadness, the familiar lines on her face deepening.

“His name was Peter Parker. He was only sixteen.”

* * *

A kid.

Natasha doesn’t know why she’s surprised. She had been younger than that when she started.

But she hadn’t had a choice in the matter.

Spider-Man - Peter - seemingly did. At least she thought so. It seemed as if Pepper and her would be having a different conversation if Tony had somehow had had a hand in making Peter who he was. Or, who he had been.

Natasha was almost certain that Spider-Man wasn’t Tony’s kid either. She had known that from her research when she first started - checking for loose ends, ensuring that there wouldn’t be surprises.

But the way Pepper’s whole posture changed, how her eyes seemed to close, her whole being seemingly weighed down by the grief Tony had likely spilled out… Peter and Tony had clearly been close.

Natasha feels something in her gut, almost akin to guilt.

She really should’ve checked out the kid back in Germany, should’ve really followed up when Tony had disappeared.

She knew it wasn’t her fault - whatever had happened to the kid, or to Tony. Knew that this thing that had happened – no matter how terrible – had nothing to do with her.

But taking in Pepper’s face, the soft but pained expression she was giving, made Natasha feel terrible all the same.

* * *

“You said you figured something out, what was it? What had you been looking for?”

Pepper held her chin in her hands, a girlish gesture that Natasha knew signified that Pepper was not only deep in thought but had let her guard down with Natasha.

Pepper had to deal with, the business world was not generally kind to a woman who spoke her mind. But as Natasha took in Pepper’s appearance, the way Pepper seemed to consider whether or not to burden her with whatever knowledge she had uncovered, Natasha felt another pang of empathy.

Whatever she knew, she had uncovered alone. Had likely been dealing with her own grief – and Tony’s – all on her own. Natasha was sure that Tony’s inner circle had likely known the truth about Spider-Man, if not before than most certainly now. Rhodey was kind but distant and Happy had his own issues to deal with. Pepper put up a façade of strength – not unwarranted or false in any way and yet – it could not have been an easy past few years.

“I…” Pepper starts. “I was curious about something having to do with Spider-Man’s death. I’m sure you heard by now that it had something to do with Hydra and a kid, right?”

Natasha nodded. While she had clearly been woefully inept as a friend to Pepper, to Tony – she was very much up to date on problems having to do with national security.

Hydra – pieces of shit that they were – were an ever-present thorn in her side.

“Yeah, story goes is that Spider-Man was a hero. Managed to save a kid from being a target.”

Pepper affirmed this. “He did, and while at the time I just accepted that the was the case… I don’t know. Tony got a card and I was just…”

Natasha goes still.

“A card? What kind of card?”

Pepper’s eyes widen, noticing the change in Natasha’s voice. “No, nothing threatening or anything like that. I told you, at first I was concerned just because it seemed so out of place. I followed through with it though and—”

“What card, Pepper?”

Pepper pressed her lips together.

Another beat.

“It’s fine, Natasha. Really, you didn’t need to come out all this way.”

“I was in the area. Tell me Pepper.”

Pepper sighed.

“It was from the kid, the one that Spider-Man saved. I don’t know what I thought.” She closed her eyes and gestured her hands in the air. “Tony’s grief was still so overwhelming, I just wanted someone to check into whether or not the kid was still being used as Hydra… I don’t know. Maybe as some kind of taunt for Tony.”

She gives a humorless laugh. “Crazy right?”

Natasha says nothing, considering what she’s heard. No, it wasn’t necessarily in line with Hydra’s portfolio to send a non-threatening card – they seemed to favor big shows of power and destruction. They had clearly been thwarted by whatever Spider-Man – Peter – had done, but it didn’t seem to connect back to Tony necessarily.

But Natasha was curious now, on the hunt for… something. Absolution maybe.

“Not too crazy.” She says evenly. “What made you say you figured it out?”

Pepper lets out a deep breath. “I just contacted the kid. Wanted to see what he was about, I guess.”

“And?” Pepper shrugs.

“Seemed to be just as I thought. Just a kid.” Her face darkens again, another wave of empathy and sorrow that slices through Natasha once more.

She really fucked up with this one.

“He just seemed guilty. Had wanted to reach out to Tony for whatever reason. I don’t know.” Pepper looks into Natasha’s eyes, pleading.

“Don’t worry about this, Nat. I promise – everything’s fine.” She grimaces.

“Well… maybe not fine. But this thing with the kid? It’s not a big deal. I handled it, it’s fine. I was just being paranoid, hyper-vigilant because of everything that was—is going on with Tony.”

Natasha hears her, but she isn’t listening. She’s already convinced herself of what she needs to do.

“Don’t go bothering the kid, Nat. I promise. It’s fine.”

Natasha only nods. “Sure thing, Pep.”

Pepper looks as if she didn’t believe her.

Natasha doesn’t bother trying to convince her otherwise.

* * *

The kid – Alan Whitaker – had just turned 21. Living in some gentrified nook of Brooklyn. She had watched him throughout the day, checking to see if there was anything that stood out as she browsed through his records.

By all accounts, Alan was a just a normal college senior. Majoring in Mechanical Engineering, a girlfriend he’s only been dating three months, a part-time job at a bank. Natasha knew – better than anyone – that age was just a number.

That people much younger than Alan could already be seasoned killers.

As she watched him go about his day, as she pored over his background information again and again – she couldn’t find anything to suggest that Alan’s story was anything but what Pepper had said.

Yet the guilt that had started to eat away at her compelled her.

Natasha had to be sure.

* * *

She hadn’t meant to _scare_ the kid exactly. Had just wanted to catch him unaware, just in case there was something she had missed. She couldn’t afford to miss anything with this again.

“Alan Whitaker?”

The kid yelped, almost jumping out of his skin as he whirled around. She was in his apartment, had been waiting for him to arrive. His eyes were frantic, seemingly terrified but also confused.

“Who—who are you? What are you doing in my apartment?”

“I’m nobody. I’m just here for some information.”

The kid’s eyes widened.

“You’re Black Widow?” Natasha’s eyes narrow.

“And you know that because…”

His next few words seemed to stumble out, sputtering after himself.

“You-you’re an Avenger! I-I saw the footage from the Battle of New York, you took down an alien rocket thing by yourself!”

Natasha rolled her eyes. She’d hoped that going into hiding would’ve somehow downplayed her profile – she was supposed to be a spy after all.

Then again, her spy days were over the minute she had been assigned to keep watch Tony Stark. There was no keeping a low profile when you were in his orbit.

“What, uh – what can I do for you?” Alan’s voice brings Natasha back to the present moment. The kid looks uneasy, his backpack in one hand, his keys in another.

He looks like he’s about to bolt out the door or vomit, maybe both. Natasha watches for another beat, then continues.

“You were there when Spider-Man died.”

Natasha notices immediately how Alan freezes, his body tensing as if she had shocked him.

“N-no? I don’t know what you’re—”

“Cut the bullshit, kid. You were there. It wasn’t a question." Alan’s eyes become frantic.

“How did you know that? I mean, I know you’re an Avenger and everything but I—I thought all that had been kept out of the news? You know for safety? I don’t—”

“Doesn’t matter how I knew. I just want to know why you’re harassing Tony Stark, almost three years later?” The kid’s eyes look they’re going to pop out of his head.

“No! I don’t, I’m not harassing him! Ms. Potts said the card was okay, that it didn’t bother him. I didn’t mean to bother him at all!” The kid had put his backpack down, his hands raised in a surrender.

Natasha studied his appearance. He was telling the truth, knew that she was pushing for an answer for something she only had herself to blame.

“What was in the card?”

Alan seemed confused. “I—I, what?”

“What was in the card? Why did you send it?” He scratches the back of his head, eyes downcast.

“I, uh… I guess I felt bad.”

Natasha folds her arms. “About?”

The kid fidgets, looking everywhere but Natasha. She presses.

“Alan.”

His head snaps up, Natasha seeing the tears starting to form.

“I just… I felt guilty, you know? Spider-Man died because of me, saving me. I—I had just wanted to tell Mr. Stark that I was sorry you know? Spider-Man wouldn’t have even been there had it not been for me being stupid enough to get kidnapped or whatever.”

Natasha’s defenses fall, just a little at this.

“It wasn’t your fault, kid.”

“I know, I know – that’s what my therapist said.” The kid wipes his eyes with his sleeve, tears still falling. Natasha immediately regrets coming. This wasn’t what she had wanted.

She had wanted to see if Alan had been more than just a pawn in Hydra’s plan – had almost wished that he had something more to do with this thing that had clearly wrecked Tony far more than she had realized.

But seeing the kid trying to hold back tears, wrestling with this enormous weight of guilt – Natasha fully realized how foolish her aim for today had been.

She couldn’t place the burden of her own guilt on to a kid who was clearly wrestling with his own.

“Listen to your therapist, Alan. I didn’t mean to scare you. I had some questions, but it’s fine. Don’t worry about it.” She moves to walk towards the door. Alan pipes up.

“I’m just—Spider-Man’s _gone_ you know? And I know Iron Man is okay, that he didn’t die but he also doesn’t seem to go anywhere. Like, I don’t know—I saw that news conference that Ms. Potts gave and it just…” the kid trails off, but Natasha understands.

“You don’t have to explain anymore, kid.” She walks towards him again, Alan flinching as she places a hand on his shoulder.

“Didn’t meant to scare you. Take care of yourself.”

Alan sniffs then nods, Natasha already recognizing that the kid was going to have to recount this whole odd encounter in his next therapy session. Before she leaves, he speaks up.

“Can—can you tell him – Iron Man, Mr. Stark I mean – that I’m sorry, again?” Natasha turns.

“Sure thing, kid.”

* * *

She had no plans to contact Tony. Not yet, anyway.

She hadn’t meant to lie to the kid, just knew she had something she had to do first.

Natasha couldn’t confront Tony, to try and communicate the kid’s remorse, when she hadn’t yet dealt with her own.

She’d never checked up on who Spider-Man was before he died. Hadn’t ever thought to _really_ see how much Tony had cared for him.

Natasha had to see to that first.

* * *

It was quiet when she arrived at the cemetery, close to dusk.

Natasha knew there was a public memorial for Spider-Man but from what all that she could figure, Spider-Man’s identity was still very much a secret.

She adjusts the hood of her jacket, making sure to keep her profile as hidden as possible. Alan had recognized her without much prompting, she couldn’t afford to let some enterprising social media star spot her and start to put two and two together.

But she had to see the kid’s final resting place, had to pay her respects.

In the time that it took to leave Alan’s apartment and for her to arrive at the cemetery, Natasha had learned all that she could about one Peter Parker.

By all accounts, Peter Parker had been an incredible kid.

Smart. Talented. A great student at his school, active in a variety of extracurricular activities. If his social media profiles were any indication, Peter had clearly been beloved.

As she walks towards his gravestone, minding her steps, she wondered how much of it was true to life and how much of it was just a default of the kid being gone.

People didn’t know how to handle grief, how to handle death. Especially the death of someone so young. Natasha didn’t necessarily believe that people were _faking_ their grief, but she knew as well as anybody that everyone – no matter how they were in life – seemed to achieve sainthood in death.

However, as she got closer and closer to where Peter’s grave was supposed to be, Natasha chided herself.

Tony Stark was many things – naïve was not one of them.

If the death of Peter Parker had been enough to make him a shell of the person he used to be, Natasha knew that the kid had to have been just as good, as kind, and as deeply missed as everyone said he was.

She makes a quick left and then stops. The small headstone looming large. 

 

In Loving Memory of

Peter Benjamin Parker

August 10, 2001 – April 26, 2018

Beloved son, nephew, and friend

Held for a moment, loved for a lifetime

 

Natasha goes still. The grave is well-tended to, flowers have recently been placed on top of it. A part of her wonders if this is Pepper’s doing, or of the kid’s aunt.

Despite herself, she feels her throat constrict.

She didn’t know Peter Parker at all, could only glean what she could from what she found online and through her narrow searching. Yet seeing the kid’s headstone, seeing the smattering of pictures, the flowers, it nudges something within Natasha.

Sixteen. A child, really. She stares at the grave, willing all of this to make sense to her.

How had Peter and Tony met? How long had Peter been Spider-Man? How did he even become Spider-Man? Why did Tony let him fight in Germany, let him continue as a vigilante when he had been so young?

She knows it’s hypocritical. Knows that on some level, she’s the last person to question a young person in a dangerous game. Then again, Natasha considers – maybe she’s the best person to question all of this.

Peter Parker had been entirely too young to be Spider-Man. Had been entirely too young to die.

And yet here was.

Natasha wasn’t sure what to do next.

* * *

She couldn’t fix this. It had been over three years since Peter had died. It was too late to give her condolences to Tony, to share in the burden of care with Pepper or Rhodey. She closed her eyes and willed herself to let it go. To let this guilt, this nagging feeling that there was more that could be done, be free of her.  

But she couldn’t. A wave of regret washes over her as she opens her eyes again.

She didn’t know Peter Parker. She hadn’t really known much about Spider-Man. But seeing the kid’s face in all those pictures, remembering the tortured looks from Pepper and Alan, the disappearance of Tony – Natasha is stricken with the pang of his loss.

Spider-Man dying had changed something in the world. And from all that she had observed, Peter Parker’s death had wrecked everyone in his.

There was nothing more she could do. Nothing she could change or fix. She knew it wasn’t her fault, whatever had happened – this was not something her soul should carry.

And yet.

Peter Parker would forever be a thread she had never followed through with, a failure that could never be undone.

Peter Parker had been loved by so many. Spider-Man, arguably even more so. Natasha could only wish that she could have met him, could’ve known the boy whose life and death had shattered so many within her own little world.

Natasha studied his grave once more, took in all the remnants and memories of a life half-lived.

There was some part of her that felt – so strongly – that maybe, in another lifetime - they would’ve gotten along.

“Близо́к локото́к, да не уку́сишь.” She whispers, letting her hand rest on his headstone.

She would never know Peter Parker.

And of all the things she's ever done, Natasha could already tell that this would be the thing she would regret the most. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I’m really new to all of this but the idea of creating a friendship between Natasha and Pepper isn’t something I’ve seen and yet is something I DEEPLY believe in. 
> 
> You cannot tell me that Virginia “Pepper” Potts-Stark is really that petty to let a little espionage and minor jealousy interfere with a friendship with Natasha “Take No Prisoners” Romanov. Absolutely not! 
> 
> ENDGAME SPOILERS
> 
> Natasha is an absolute hero. Her death was terribly sad but narratively – for me – I totally got it. It was the ultimate way she could illustrate just how much she had changed; she cleared her ledger in the service of the people she loved and the whole sequence fit well with this idea that Natasha’s sole goal had been bringing back what had been lost. She meant it when she said she’d be willing to do “whatever it takes”. I guess this was my own way of ‘honoring’ her. 
> 
> I really liked getting into her headspace - someone who’s so far removed from Peter and Spider-Man and yet who would still be impacted by his legacy. Maybe not as much as the others in this series, but affected nonetheless. The trope of Black Widow having a soft spot for Spider-Man is such a favorite of mine to read, especially the idea of training or of feeling linked because of their ‘spider’-ness. Even if Peter is gone in this universe, it didn’t feel right to eliminate that thread. Oh and phrase she whispers is a Russian proverb "So near, and yet so far" - it literally translates to "your elbow is close, yet you can't bite it". At least, that's what Google tells me. Seemed poetic for Black Widow to wish she had known our little spider. 
> 
> Let me know what you think! You all are the absolute kindest and your comments make my day. I’m planning on finishing this by the end of the month (if not sooner). Jury’s still out if it’s the end of the “It’s Quiet Uptown” series overall – I have a couple of one-shots from Peter’s perspective that I’m still debating on... so we’ll see. 
> 
> As always, feel free to come scream at me on [tumblr](https://seek-rest.tumblr.com/).


	5. Steve

Steve was ready to be connected again. 

They were constantly on the move now, always just barely a step ahead of Ross and his cronies.

But they’d finally have a moment’s peace – finally had time to just sit and relax. He turned on his phone for the first time in a week.

Steve was consistently amazed at technology, deeply appreciative of the world he now inhabited - even if he hadn't been given the choice. 

It was amazing to him, the ease of everything, the access to information.

He could have food delivered straight to his door, didn’t even need to move from his couch for it to happen. Well, if he had a couch anymore. 

But the idea of it, the ability to connect - Steve was thankful for it. 

 

Natasha had warned him about posting too frequently on his social media accounts, never mind the fact that they weren’t tied to his real identity at all.

But he got a kick out of it. Being so connected to the world, to others.

He was especially fond of seeing updates about Queens.

* * *

While they had met in an airport, on opposite sides of a fight that should never have happened – that had held consequences far too difficult to unravel – Steve couldn’t help the affection he felt for the kid.

Queens – Spider-Man – had clearly been young, couldn’t have been older than 25 from what Steve could gather. The kid was strong, funny. Sam had mentioned how annoyed he got with the kid’s constant chattering from their own tussle in the terminal but even Steve could tell that Sam was still endeared by the kid.

They may have met for the wrong reasons and in the wrong time, but Steve was thankful that at least Queens still took the gig – superheroing – in stride.

The things they did, the people they fought – it wasn’t easy. But it was right, the right thing to do. Steve may not consider himself an “Avenger” anymore, but he still felt it was duty to step in when things were wrong.

He appreciated that Queens apparently felt the same way, if his social media following was any indication.

It was a major reason why Steve had been so vehemently against the Accords.  

The Accords. A cold vault in Siberia. Steve’s still haunted by the memory.

It had been well over a year now, maybe a little longer – but he still regretted how things with Tony had ended.

In a way, keeping track of Queens gave him some semblance of knowing what was going on with Tony. The two were clearly connected, though to what extent Steve could only guess. He’d only catch glimpses, read chatter about how the two were always tag-teaming in the city.

A part of Steve was thankful for it – Queens being there for Iron Man. While Steve didn’t feel _replaced_ necessarily, the kid clearly seemed to work well with Tony.

* * *

Sam wasn’t exactly Tony’s biggest fan, didn’t understand how Steve could still want to “check in” on him in any capacity after what happened.

Natasha did – at least, he believed she did. They never outright talked about what happened, how she switched sides – how by letting them pass, Nat had inadvertently upended her life all those months ago.

But Natasha and he understood each other, understood Tony in a way that Sam just couldn’t.

Tony was a complex man. A strong one, stubborn, a fighter.

Steve may not be in communication with his old friend, but he could still keep tabs on him. Queens was a bridge, a way for Steve to still communicate... even if Tony wasn't on the other end.

Besides, Queens was a good kid. Was clearly loved by the city he used to call home.

Steve liked seeing good people get their due.

* * *

“What did I tell you about logging into that thing, man? Social media is a disease.” Sam walks by, an apple in one hand. They’re in some decrepit warehouse in Argentina, planned on moving further south the next day.

They never stayed in one place long. Moving constantly, wherever they were needed. It wasn’t unlike they work they had done before – moving, adjusting to whatever threats needed handling.

It was all off the books now, and all things considered – on a tighter budget.

Steve knew that wasn’t going to change any time soon.

“You know Sam, back in my day – we couldn’t have dreamed of having the amount of information that you all just take for granted. The world at my fingertips? I’ll take it and all it’s nonsense with it.”

Sam shakes his head. “Man, first of all – I’d take your shit more seriously if you weren’t just turning on that phone to find Spider-Man memes or whatever the hell it is you like seeing.” He takes a bite of his apple for continuing.

“And second, back in your day – I doubt I would’ve been allowed to be in the same room as you, much less follow your ass around fighting whatever the hell comes up next so, forgive me if I don’t take your rose-colored glasses view of the past to heart.”

He had a point there.

Steve puts his hands up. “Not trying to excuse the past and its mistakes, Sam.” He looks down to his phone as it blinks on. “Just glad that I am where I am.” 

He had to. He hadn't had a choice in the matter. 

Sam snorts. “Glad someone is, my back is killing me.”

“Is he whining again?” Steve smiles as Natasha walks in, supplies in hand. Sam balks.

“Whining? Me? The audacity of this woman, Steve.” Steve hears the two of them start to bicker, but he tunes it out, the world slowing down as he scrolls through his phone.

He doesn’t usually get a lot of notifications, a few updates from King T’Challa, maybe an email from Sharon’s hidden account, a string of incoherent emojis from Princess Shuri.

What he is not prepared for is the mass emails, texts, and messages he has suddenly accumulated, his phone continuously buzzing.

“Someone’s popular.” Nat jokes.

As Sam and Nat continue to chatter in the background, Steve doesn’t even get the respond when the notification pops up.

“City Mourns After Death of Spider-Man”

For Steve, it’s as if he is crashing in the ice all over again.

* * *

He doesn’t talk about it often. The crash. The moments right before he landed a plane in the Arctic, ending his connection to the only world he had ever known.

It had been terrifying.

He hadn’t felt brave. Hadn’t known that in some twisted form of fate, that he would wake up decades later.

He’d known he was going to die. Knew it the moment he took control of the plane – there was no coming back up from this.

The regret of missing that dance, the pain in her voice that he could still hear – the guilt that he felt even then, the selfishness of keeping her on the line in what he thought was going to be his final moments.

Steve had been terrified of what he was doing, but he hadn’t had a choice.

It was the right thing to do. He couldn’t let millions die. Couldn’t let millions suffer because of his own fear.

So he did what he had to do. And while he survived, the rest of his world hadn’t.

It had been its own kind of loss, the deaths – literally and metaphorically – of an entire life he could never take back. He thought he had adjusted well enough, all things considered.

Yet reading about the death of Queens – of Spider-Man – made Steve feel like he was heading straight for the ice again – knowing that all that was in front of you was loss, that there was no going back to the world that you had known.  

* * *

Natasha had noticed first. Steve should’ve guessed.

“You alright, Steve?”

Steve blinks, frozen except for the movement of his thumb – continuously scrolling through story after story.

Queens – Spider-Man – was dead. Steve couldn’t wrap his head around it.

There were too many questions, too many things that didn’t make sense. Steve was a soldier, had seen and dealt with more death than the average person. And yet, this – it baffled Steve.

Queens had only been a kid, couldn’t have been much older than Steve had been when he became who he was. The idea of a kid dying so young still affected him, the memory of the war – and all the boys who had died then – never far from his memory.

But Queens… this troubled Steve in a different way.  

The soldiers Steve had fought with, the ones who had died in battle – they had been only men. Their loss was tragic, terrible – many died way too young.

But they were men. Men died.

Spider-Man was enhanced. Steve had known that from their short encounter on the tarmac, from all that he had seen in footage online.

Whatever took him out had to have been deadly.

And yet, what bothered Steve the most wasn’t the idea of some unknown threat, wasn’t solely due to the fact that a young hero had died – it was Tony.

Where had Stark been when Queens had died?

Where was Tony now?

“What’s up, man? We gotta go?” Sam asks, discarding the remains of his apple.

Steve shakes his head slightly, still unable to express what exactly he was thinking.

Natasha walks up to him, glances at his screen.

“Oh.” Steve looks up, surprised. It’s not what she says, but her tone.

Natasha already knows.

“You didn’t say anything?”

“Say anything about what?” Sam asks.

Nat turns her head. “I… I didn’t think it was relevant.”

“Not _relevant_?”

She turns back to look at him. “There was nothing we could’ve done.”

“What was it? Do you know what happened?” Steve knows he should feel more upset, that there was another secret she has kept from him. But he can’t bring himself to focus on that now. There’s a slight ringing in his ears.

Queens was dead.

Where had Tony been?

“Saved some people. You remember that chatter last week about that Hydra cell in Montreal?” Steve nods. Sam stiffens, ready to move.

“Apparently they had planned some attack in New York, some rallying cry.” Natasha gives a shrug, but Steve recognizes it for what it is – a deflection.

“Spider-Man stopped it.”

Sam’s head tilts. “Spider-Man? What the hell did he do this time?”

Steve and Natasha turn to Sam, his face shifting as he takes in the seriousness of their own.

“Oh… oh man.”

Steve glances back down to his screen, a shot of Spider-Man swinging on the front page of _The New York Times_.

Queens was dead.

Steve wished Tony had called him.

* * *

 He knows that it’s too much to ask of Tony, knows that they had lost more than a friendship in that cold vault.

Tony Stark had been so unlike his father, and yet – he had trusted Steve. And Steve, despite it all, had trusted him.

When Steve went into the ice the first time around, he couldn’t have imagined he would ever wake up again into a whole new world.

When Steve went into the ice second time – he should’ve guessed that his world would be different when he left once again. He went into the ice with two friends, and left with none. One friend broken and betrayed, another half-carried in his arms, only to be put under – lost – once again.

He had betrayed Tony, had kept the truth hidden from him to protect Bucky. Even in knowing Bucky wasn’t himself, knowing that he was right to protect him from Tony’s rage and grief – Steve also knew he was wrong to keep it from Tony.

He should’ve trusted Tony with the truth long before they had ever reached that icy cold room.

And now, over a year later – he was still dealing with the consequences of his own pride.

Yet there’s still some part of him that still wishes – against all odds – that Tony would’ve reached out to him. He still had faith in people, still had faith in Tony.

Steve had told him that no matter what, if Tony had needed him – he’d be there.

Maybe it was foolish to think Tony would believe him, naive even. 

But Steve had wished it all the same.

* * *

They’re in Norway the next time he turns his phone on again.

They had had to clear out soon after he had read through the first initial stories, had gotten a rundown from Natasha. For once, even Sam had been quiet as they traveled to some other corner of the world.

Queens had saved thousands of lives. Maybe more, with what he gathered from the intel they had previously had on Hydra’s plans.

And Steve now knew that Tony had been there. According to a news release from Pepper, had been in the very same room.

It pained Steve to know that, to know that once again he had failed to be there for Tony.

He wanted to reach out. He had read all the messages he had previously missed, had kept to up to date on even what the gossip blogs had said.

Queens had died a hero. And Tony had been right there.

And yet, time slipped away from him. Queens dying had shifted something in the world, in the public’s view of the Accords.

The Accords – just like before – had torn them apart again.

* * *

It’s slow work. The next couple of years seem to fly away from Steve. The more time passes, the more he feels worn – feeling the weight of the decades he had lost while also feeling the years catching up to him.

It’s in his mind. He knows this. He knows the serum still running through his veins guarantees that he will be a young man for many, many years to come.

Yet the toll of going into the ice – with Tony, with Bucky, Steve himself – weighs heavily on him.

The Accords are effectively dead now. Ross was run out of office.

If the Accords – a set of standards that would’ve made heroes accountable to their governments, would would have called for the Avengers to step in where they were needed – had been fully ratified, Spider-Man wouldn’t have had enough time to do what he did.

Queens had been a local hero and yet in doing what he did, saving all those lives at the cost of his own – Queens had made the Accords seem irrelevant.

If the governments of the world were still susceptible to Hydra infiltration, were incapable of preventing attacks that a small-time hero could, how could they be trusted to be enforced when big threats needed to be handled?

If the Accords had been approved, would they given Spider-Man enough time to save the people that he did?

Ross tried to fight it, tried hard to argue his case but it fell on deaf ears. He couldn’t argue his point, unless he did at the expense of Queens.

Even Ross wasn’t that much of an idiot, to besmirch the name of a hero so beloved that the world still mourned for him – over five years later.

He was dismissed. The Accords overturned. Steve, Nat, Sam… they were finally free.

Spider-Man’s death had changed everything for Steve.

And from what he could gather, it had changed everything for Tony too.

But he still doesn’t call.

* * *

The years continue to pass. Steve is out of hiding now.

He’s settled in Boston, just a few miles out of town.

Sam is back in DC, working back at the VA. Nat is… wherever she needs to be. Steve doesn’t mind.

Their few years on the run had bonded them, tied them together in a way that wouldn’t easily be broken by any length of time or distance. As he grabbed a coffee mug from his pantry, he wondered if enough time had passed between he and Tony – if the ice had melted just a bit.

Steve keeps mulling it over, reaching out. It had been too long, but Steve wondered if maybe by now – it had been long enough.

He told Tony, more than a decade ago now – that if Tony ever needed him, he’d be there.

He’d never called.

Steve respected his wishes.

As he poured a cup of coffee, he flipped on his tv to watch what he’d missed. Though Sam had made a good point all those years back, he was still glad for the technology he had – for the information still available to him.

Though he could finally sleep for longer than a few hours at night, he grew restless if he was away from the world for too long.

He’d slept long enough.

* * *

He almost misses it, goes to change the channel before catching sight of him.

Because there he is.

Tony.

Steve pauses, remote in one hand, coffee cup in the other. He should be listening to what he’s saying, but all Steve can think of is how much his old friend has aged.

His hair is grey around the temples, the lines of his face are worn – almost haggard. Tony Stark could never be considered _unkempt_ , but there’s something in his eyes that stops Steve.

Tony is different, in such a way that it catches Steve off guard. His old friend is hurting, still. Haunted by… something. He hadn’t made a public appearance in years, only briefly not long after Pepper’s first conference – a diatribe that had spread just as much as Pepper’s had before it.

An appearance where he had declared that he was no longer Iron Man.

Despite the lack of calls, the distance between them – Steve kept up to date as much as he could about what Tony was doing next, going as far as contacting Nat about it. If Queens could no longer be that bridge, Steve hoped Natasha could be. 

“Just tell me, Nat. Is he okay?”

He can hear the ocean over the phone. Or at least, Steve thinks it’s the ocean. He can never tell.

“I think you’d need to talk to him, Steve.” Her voice is quiet, even, but Steve recognizes the tone. They know each other too well now.

Natasha thinks they should’ve made amends years ago. She had gone to see them, Pepper and Tony – still kept in touch from what Steve could figure.

She had learned something years ago, something she hadn’t felt the need to share with the team. Sam hadn’t noticed the shift in Natasha, but Steve could.

He considered her to be one of his best friends, knew without a doubt that she felt the same. But if she had decided to keep something from Steve, he wouldn’t be the one to call her out on it.

He was the last one imaginable to do so.

“He hasn’t called, Nat. I don’t want to overstep.”

“Phones work both ways, Rogers. I thought we covered this.” Steve lets out a laugh.

“Yeah, we did Romanov. But you know as well as I do that if Tony wanted to talk to me, he would’ve by now.”

The silence on the other end is all Steve needs to know she agrees. That had been the end of that conversation, but it had stirred a familiar feeling of regret in Steve.

He had betrayed Tony in the worst way. Steve didn’t have the right to place that burden of contact on him. And yet he did.

But now, seeing Tony again after all these years – still broken, beyond what he had been in the ice all those years ago, made Steve feel wish he had done things differently.

* * *

Steve’s not so arrogant to assume Tony’s change has anything to do with him, with Bucky. Yet there’s something there, something familiar to it. As Tony grips the podium, steadying himself for whatever he says next, Steve recognizes it.

It’s grief. Tony had suffered a loss.

As Tony continues, Steve – still not listening – wracks his brain. Pepper was still alive – he could see her off to the side. Rhodes. Happy. All fine from what he had gathered.

It takes Steve too long to remember, too long to place it. And then it hits him.

Queens.

Steve takes another second, remorse flowing through him.

Queens had changed everything for Steve – for Tony.

When Queens had died, so had the mantle of Iron Man.

Steve starts to listen to what Tony is saying, only catching the last half.

“Peter did more in his sixteen years than some do in a lifetime. And while I wish with everything within me that he had been given a whole lifetime to live, I am… grateful that I was able to spend any time with all.”

Steve’s eyebrows furrow in confusion. Who was he talking about?

“While I have a lot of stories about Peter – I can’t take all the credit here.” Steve watches as Tony sighs.

“You see, Peter… he suffered a lot of losses in his life. Lost his parents. An uncle.” Tony’s face turns into a soft smile, Steve noticing how his eyes are off-camera, lost in a memory.

“But you know, the kid never gave up.” Tony’s head snap up. “Peter was… so bright. And I know this is a lot to take in, we – the kid’s family and I – thought that now was the right time to bring the truth to light.”

Steve is more than confused than ever. Who was Tony talking about? Who was Peter?

“So enough from me. I could go on and on about Parker but, I think it’d be better if you heard from the woman of the hour – the woman who’s done more for Peter Parker’s legacy than anyone ever could.” Tony steps back, hand extended towards a woman who cautiously stepped forward.

Steve looks between the two faces, lost.

“Meet May Parker, the woman who raised Spider-Man and probably the strongest person I’ve ever met – second only to my wife.” Tony looks to the camera and smiles.

Steve feels as if he’s been sucker-punched. May Parker is at the podium. 

“Thank you Tony.” She smiles. Steve can only watch as Tony as he steps out of frame, watch as May Parker starts to speak.

“Hello everyone. My name is May Parker. Ten years ago, the world lost one of their greatest heroes. Spider-Man died a hero and while you all mourned his loss, his passing meant more to me. Because I lost…” She pauses, takes a deep breath.

Steve feels a surge of empathy for the woman on the screen.

“I lost my nephew. Peter had been Spider-Man for almost two years when he died. And for as long as I knew, as long as he had been Spider-Man, he said that he never wanted anyone to know the truth about who he was.” A tear falls down her cheek as she steadies her hand, Steve feeling the tears in his own eyes starting to form.

“And for years, I honored that request. Had to, for him. But now… it’s been ten years since Peter died. And it feels as if the world should be given the opportunity to know more about the man they still call a hero – if only because that man, my boy, should be loved not just for what he did – but for who he was.”

May smiles through her tears. Steve, knowing she can’t see it, offers one in return.

“My Peter had been Spider-Man. And while you all know plenty about his heroics and his actions as Spider-Man, it’s an honor to stand before you today. Because while I am so, _so_ proud of what Peter did as Spider-Man – today, I get the chance to honor _Peter_.” She brings her shoulders back, head held high.

“Peter Parker was the light of my life.”

The tears start streaming down Steve’s face.

“Today, I get to share that light with you.”

* * *

Steve is in his car before he can think better of it, hadn’t even turned off the television.

In the few hours it takes to get to New York, all Steve can think of is Queens – his voice, the jokes, the easy banter that he’d overheard.

Queens – Peter – had only been a kid. Really, _a kid_. 

And Tony.

Tony had known. Had been there when he died.

Tony had been alone. 

Had carried this with him all these years. 

Steve races through the city, back through the familiar streets until he passes under the Tower’s shadow. He’s not sure if he’ll even be welcome here, if he even knows what he’s doing.

But he’s sure that he has to see Tony. 

Steve should’ve called.

* * *

“Captain America?”

The shocked receptionist is loud, loud enough that enough people turn in surprise.

Steve bows his head. “Call me Steve.”

“St-Steve. Steve, Mr. Rogers. Ho-How can I help you today, sir?”

“I’d like to see Tony Stark, if he’s available.”

She blinks twice, her mouth open slightly.

“Oh-uh, yes sir. I, uh-I don’t think, I mean – do you have an appointment?” She seems almost apologetic to ask, but Steve understands.

“No, no I don’t but I’m willing to wait if necessary. Can you let him know that I’m here? No pressure. I can wait as long as he needs.” He nods before she can answer, walking to one of the sitting areas.

He sits on one of the couches, glances over back to the receptionist. She’s still frozen in place, more than a few people also seemingly in shock.

Steve should be used to it by now, the looks and glares of the public. He may not be Captain America anymore, hadn’t been for a very long time – but he figured he was known now for the dissolution of the Accords – and the Avengers – as he had previously been for the serum that originally made him famous.

Steve brings out his phone, taps open a browser.

The internet is aflame with the news of Peter Parker.

As he waits, scrolling through the endless stories and comments, Steve is once again reminded of what he told Sam all those years ago, back when he first heard of Spider-Man’s death.

He was still appreciative of the amount of information at his fingertips, still grateful that he had the chance to learn more about the world around him.

But none of that had illuminated the truth about Queens. That could only have come from Tony.

And Steve hadn’t been there for him.

It had been over ten years since he had gone into the ice. Steve wouldn’t let another ten pass him by.

“Mr. Rogers?”

Steve looks up.

“You can go up. He’s expecting you.”

* * *

It’s been well over a decade since Steve has stepped into this lab, and yet he’s surprised by how little it’s changed.

There’s updated tech to be sure, a smattering of new mechanical things that were undoubtedly part of Tony’s current projects. Steve is still taken aback though, at how much the basic layout is the same.

If he knew Tony – and now he wondered if he really does – Steve would’ve guessed that Tony would’ve changed the layout of the place several times over.

Tony was constantly evolving, had the strongest desire to always look forward. For the lab he was in to be just as unchanged as it was, a relic as if the past ten years hadn’t occurred, he wondered just how much he had missed.

“You lost, Rogers?” Steve whips around. Tony’s in the doorway.

His tone is questioning, not necessarily unkind. Steve steadies himself, his hands loosely held in his pocket. He takes in Tony.

Tony’s leaning on the doorway, arms crossed – a defensive posture if not for the look on Tony’s face. The way his eyes move up and down illustrates to Steve that he’s sizing him up as much as Steve was observing him. Tony was clearly okay with him being here – wouldn’t have let him past security if he not.

Still, Steve couldn’t begrudge him for being wary. The last time they’d seen each other, they’d almost killed each other.

“It’s good to see you, Tony. It’s been a long time.”

“Hasn’t it though? What, almost twelve years now?” Tony leans forward, arms uncrossed as he walks into the lab. Steve watches as he walks past him, Tony going to sit on one of the lab stools.

Tony gestures for him to sit at the stool across from him. Steve obliges.

“So, what do I owe the pleasure?” Tony puts his elbows on the lab table and leans forward.

 Steve wasn’t quite sure what he had expected, wasn’t even sure what he was doing here, but hadn’t expected… this.

He looked into Tony’s eyes – the first time he’s done so since that vault – and instead of fear, of hatred, he sees only a quiet resolve.

Tony’s not here to fight.

Neither is Steve.

“I wanted to say I’m sorry, Tony. It’s… I let this go on for too long.” Tony waves his hand in the air.

“Rogers, I forgave you a long time ago. Barnes…” Tony stops, Steve waits.

“Well, let’s just say I’ve dealt with a lot worse since then trust me. What happened with us, with Barnes – water on the bridge.”

Steve nods. “That’s what I mean, why I’m here.” He looks up at Tony’s face, unable to hide the sorrow in his own.

“I saw the press conference today. About Queens… about Peter.”

Tony’s eyes darken, the shift causing Steve’s heart to break. He had betrayed Tony in the worst way but this – this was something he never should’ve let pass by.

Tony had never called Steve. But Steve – someone who believed in doing the right thing because it was right – should never have placed that burden on Tony to begin with.

“I didn’t know. That Queens—Peter—had been so young. I’m sorry, Tony. I should’ve been there. Should’ve been here for you all this time. Had I known…”

Tony’s eyes are elsewhere, seeing beyond Steve and this moment.

“Nat didn’t say anything?”

Steve shakes his head. “No. I almost wish she had, but I guess she had her reasons. She always does.”

A sharp laugh. “Yeah, Romanov’s never one to be predictable.”

They let the silence fill in the space between them – both lost in their own little world. Steve doesn’t know where Tony’s mind is, but all Steve can dwell on is that short interaction in the airport – a quippy kid with a strength that had impressed Steve even then.

A kid who had been gone too soon. And that Tony, for over ten years, had had to bear that burden alone. 

“Surprised you haven’t renovated the place.” Steve offers, looking around the lab. Tony blinks a few time, shaking himself out of whatever place he had drifted off to. He looks around the lab in turn.

“Yeah… this is how the kid left it. He was helping with a redesign… didn’t feel right to change anything without him.”

Though Tony’s tone is matter-of-fact, the brutality of his words cuts Steve all the same.

Tony Stark was a man who was forever looking to the future, who never once seemed to rest in the moment he was in. And yet, he had kept his lab – one of many Steve was sure – the same, a relic of a time when Queens had been there to see it.

The shame of how much he failed Tony almost overwhelms him.

“How long did you know him?” Tony considers this.

“Well I knew about Spider-Man about a month after he popped up, figured out it was the kid not long after that.” Tony lets out a small laugh.

“I’d only known Peter a day before I flew him out to Germany.”

The air between them tenses, just for a minute. Steve is unsure of what to say, but Tony pushes forward.

“After… everything, I knew the kid about a year. A little longer.” He lets his arms rest on the bench, hunching over as he looks at Steve.

In Tony’s eyes, there is no fire, no hatred or lingering pain – not at least, for what had passed between the two of them all those years ago.

But there is pain, an agony that Steve cannot fathom. 

Taking in Tony’s whole demeanor, Steve could see that Tony had been through much worse than the whatever Steve and Bucky had done – had suffered in more ways than Steve could probably ever know.

The shame is lodged in his heart now, a wave of sympathy for his old friend cutting through him. 

Yet Tony does not seem to hold this against Steve, has settled on something within himself. 

While Tony may have forgiven Steve, it would be much longer before he could ever forgive himself. 

Despite this, as he leaned forward, arms folded on the bench in a posture similar to Tony’s, Steve could feel the tension in the air dissipate.

* * *

Both he and Tony had lost so much in the ice – the cold and indifference creating a chasm between them that may not ever be lifted. Steve watched as a faint smile formed on Tony's face.

He wondered if that light that May Parker had talked about, the light that Peter had clearly been, could bring them back together again.

They could never go back to how they used to be. Their friendship had suffered too much hurt, too much pain… too much time had passed between them. Steve and Tony were different people now.

Tony most of all.

But maybe, just maybe – there was enough warmth there, enough of an olive branch – that Steve could try and cross that bridge again.

He had failed Tony for over ten years. Had expected Tony to reach out, something he never should’ve done.

Steve believed in doing the right thing because it was right. And he had failed.

He wouldn't fail him again.

* * *

“Peter was a good kid, Steve. You would’ve liked him.” Tony taps the lab bench twice, some memory of the kid passing over his face. He looks up at Steve.

It’s Steve’s turn to smile. Though they should’ve been worlds apart, they still seemed to be on the wavelength.

Maybe Tony believed Peter could be a bridge too.

Maybe the ice was melting after all.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. He was like you, in a lot of ways. Strong. Stubborn. Fiercely protective… good.” Steve says nothing at first.

“I don’t know, Tony. Sounds an awful lot like you.” Tony’s eyes meet Steve’s. A beat. Then a silent acknowledgement.

Their friendship may never what it was, but Queens – Peter – was bridging the gap once more.

“I wish I could’ve known him, Tony. I’m sorry… that you carried this alone.” Tony doesn’t say anything for a moment.

“But you don’t have to anymore. I’m sorry it took so long. But I’m here now Tony. As long as you need me. I’m here.”

Tony sighs, a long and slow exhale.

“Tell me about him—Peter.”

“What do you want to know?” The warmth in Tony’s voice is undeniable.

Steve smiles.

“Everything.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh Steve. 
> 
> This one was really difficult for me, if only because as much as I love Steve Rogers – I really did not agree with a lot of his decisions. Civil War was frustrating to me because while I could definitely see where Steve was coming from, I don’t understand how he could’ve lied to Tony for as long as he did. It seems so selfish, especially coming from a man who is meant to be selfless. He recognizes this in the end, in that final letter to Tony – but it still bothers me. 
> 
> Despite that, I love his arc in the movies, the parallel between him and Tony is so strongly interwoven that it’s almost poetic. They really are two sides of the same coin in my eyes – just approaching the problems in their lives through different means. I love their friendship - even in the end. 
> 
> If Thanos didn’t exist, it makes perfect sense to me that Steve would just let the separation of Civil War continue – some misguided attempt at being honorable that just terribly misses the mark. 
> 
> Like Natasha, Steve really wouldn’t have had the chance to know Peter or to mourn him. He kind of used him – Spider-Man – to his own advantage, first as a means of keeping tabs on Tony, then as a tool to undermine the Accords. I could imagine that the guilt of hearing the truth about Spider-Man would’ve hit him hard – would have been the catalyst for him to get over himself and finally contact Tony. 
> 
> Peter Parker – even in death – always looking out for the little guy. 
> 
> Next chapter is the end, of this story and likely of the It’s Quiet Uptown series overall. 
> 
> Thanks for sticking with me in this sad little universe of mine. 
> 
> Until next time!


	6. Tony

“You got something for me, Fri?” Tony tapped his fingers on the desk, a slight flutter that he knew annoyed Pepper. The memory of her pains him.

“There have been reports of a masked man who stopped a bus mid-chase. Would you like for me to download the footage for you?” Tony stops, tilts his head to the side.

“Is it any of the usual freaks? Fist something? That investigator?”

“Negative, boss. It appears to be a new masked individual. Shall I download the footage?”

Tony considers it for a second before replying. “Sure. Go ahead, Fri.” He flicks his hand, swiping the download to his phone as he walks out of the lab.

* * *

Tony had a habit of keeping tabs on the crazy coming and goings of enhanced people in New York. He’d heard the rumors of a masked devil in Hell’s Kitchen, had seen first-hand the machinations of a fierce and slightly terrifying private eye.

It was a habit he had picked up after the Chitauri invasion, something only magnified in the months after Sokovia.

As he tapped his phone, opened up the video that had finished downloading, Tony sighed. There was too much shit he had to do today – repairing something of Steve’s, lunch with Rhodey, a long-overdue conversation with Vision about his incessant need to barge into his lab at any given moment – but he couldn’t let this slip through the cracks.

The last time his arrogance had gotten the better of him, one of his creations had leveled a city.

He couldn’t afford to let anything pass by him again.

* * *

The footage was… interesting.

Tony cancelled his lunch plans, Rhodey annoyed at the last-minute change.

“Come on Tones, this is the third time we’ve rescheduled. What could possibly be so important that you can’t stop for an hour?”

Tony flicked his eyes over the screen, then back to the call with James.

“Nothing major, Rhodes… hah, get it? Major Rhodes?”

“It’s Colonel now, Tony.”

“Tomato, to-mah-to – listen, just in the zone, kay Rhodey? We’ll meet tomorrow.”

“Tony, I—” Tony ends the call.

He knows that this aggravates his friend, ending a call in mid-sentence. It’s half the reason he does it.

The other half is the footage he can’t stop watching. Tony presses play again.

It’s a shaky video posted on the internet, some bystander nearly got crushed by a black SUV. A masked man, a blur of red and blue had not only stopped the car – Tony double checked, an almost three- _thousand_ -pound vehicle – but had lept away seemingly without a scratch on him.

As he replayed the footage over and over again, Tony was mesmerized.

What the hell is this?

 _Who_ the hell was this?

* * *

It takes all of thirty minutes for Tony to have watched all the footage available of the spider… thing. He caught up a glimpse of the insignia on the guy’s outfit, browsed the internet for chatter about the webbed freak, and was even more intrigued.

The spider thing was something like a hero in New York. Tony wondered how he had missed it.

Sure, he kept tabs on the city – kept tabs on the world, the universe – but for the life of him, he wonders how he had completely missed this masked little freak running around a city, especially when he was quickly becoming popular.

He taps his fingers on the workbench, thinking.

“FRIDAY?”

“Yes boss?”

“Get me all the information you can find on the spider thing. Not just footage – scour whatever resources you need.”

FRIDAY is silent for a moment.

“ _All_ available resources?”

Tony grins. He still had a link into Fury’s database, a window that gave him a peek into whatever shit Fury had found on enhanced beings.

He was fairly certain Fury knew – he’d be shit at his job if he didn’t – but that he didn’t care.

Tony Stark was not a threat, not anymore.

He didn’t make a habit of hacking into Fury’s files, they’d built up enough of a weird trust that Tony respected – or at least, tolerated – the man.

This spider thing was in his neighborhood… wasn’t likely a threat…

But Tony had to be sure.

“Sure, Fri. Search them all.”

* * *

All of the information – even Fury’s – doesn’t give him nearly enough.

From what he can figure, the spider guy has been around for at least four months, maybe five at best. He can’t pinpoint when exactly he showed up, but from all he’s found – the guy has been nothing but helpful.

Tony pours out his sixth cup of coffee, back from the lunch with Rhodey he had nearly rescheduled again – until Rhodes had promised to tell Pepper that he hadn’t eaten. In no way was Tony prepared for _that_ to be their first conversation in months.

He mulls over the possibility that maybe the guy wasn’t a threat.

Any guy who had the kind of strength the spider freak did and just ended up using it to stop grand theft bicycles couldn’t be all that bad.

But there’s still something that bugs Tony, something that nudges him to keep digging.

Because the spider guy isn’t a bad guy per se but there’s just… _something_. There’s more to story, even if Tony can’t figure out what it is.

“What would you like to work on today, boss?” FRIDAY asks as he walks into the lab. He takes a sip of his coffee and flicks his hand out, motioning through some of his current projects.

He has enough on his plate, enough repairs and things to plan for. He shouldn’t be so preoccupied with what was clearly a low-enough level being that it hadn’t caught the attention of anything or anyone massive.

Spider guy was relatively minor – hadn’t even made as much of an imprint as the other freaks in New York. He kept his antics small, always left the scene of whatever crime he had prevented just as quickly as he had arrived. 

It was astonishing to Tony really, how much _good_ the guy seemed to pack in when he clearly didn’t seem to swing around the streets long. He managed to swing himself all around Queens, Brooklyn, the Bronx… but there was never any footage later than 2am.

Tony guessed the guy couldn’t have been much older than a college student, his voice from the recordings squeaky and a little too eager. An unfamiliar current of something passed through Tony at the thought of some twenty-something swinging around the city.

This job – whatever the guy was doing – was dangerous. But the guy clearly had a handle on things, knew how to handle himself.

Even if his outfit left a lot to be desired.

But as Tony considered FRIDAY’s request, he wondered if he really should push this. The guy wore a mask – more than what he could say for the other freaks – and with how quickly he left things, how shaky footage was of him, had clearly wanted his identity to stay a secret.

The guy wasn’t a threat. For once in Tony’s life, he considers that maybe he should just leave well enough alone.

The spider freak hadn’t even made the six o’clock news – just chatter on the internet, jokes from teenagers who thought the idea of a masked vigilante who always seemed to time his heroics with school hours as hilarious.

Tony nearly chokes on his coffee.

_Shit._

_No…_

_There’s no way._

“FRIDAY, the footage for the spider thing – can you check for anything between the hours of… I don’t know, 7am to 3pm?”

Tony waits as FRIDAY processes his request, setting his coffee down as his hands shake.

There was no way. The guy was young, but not _that_ young. He was in college, had to be. No sane high-schooler would be brave enough to _walk_ past a bodega robbery, much less fling themselves straight into one without a second’s thought.

That was an idiotic twenty-something year old’s move – a chaotic decision of a man who felt like he was invincible because – well, he damn near was.

But as FRIDAY tells him that there’s no footage found, Tony can feel the sinking feeling in his stomach grow.

Because while that would definitely be the idiotic move of a twenty-something with a god complex, it could also be the exact definition of a high-schooler with incredible strength, who was nearly invincible.

The spider guy was priority number one now.

He had to stop the kid before he got hurt.

* * *

It takes a little doing, finding his identity. Tony’s almost manic now, his obsession to uncover the spider guy’s identity. There’s a nagging thought in the back of his mind, stating that he was overreacting. That he could be wrong, that whatever this webbed freak did, Tony wasn’t responsible.

But there was another feeling, growing stronger by the day, that compelled Tony to find him – to find out the truth.

Tony was convinced the spider-thing was a kid. And on day four of his search, he finds him.

* * *

It’s a fluke. Catching him.  

A routine robbery – if there was ever a routine for these sort of things – and then the kid had gone his way. But then Tony noticed the time stamp for the video, thanked his lucky stars that it had been within the past five minutes – and he scrambled to hack security footage in the area.

He could hear the disapproval in FRIDAY’s voice as he directed her to do so. While she seemingly had no qualms in delving into Fury’s files, she clearly had some hesitation in breaking into every day people’s lives.

But Tony was beyond convincing otherwise.

And then, there he is. It’s a security cam from an apartment building, just a little higher than the roof the kid was on.

“FRIDAY can you get me audio?” He leans in to the screen, waits as she processes her request.

He can see the guy – the kid, it could be a kid – pacing on the roof. The lab is quiet, except for the pounding of his heart beating in his ears. And then suddenly, there’s audio.

“-es May, I promise. I’ll stop by Delmar’s again for the eggs.”

It’s a kid. Now that Tony’s hearing it, so clearly, he wonders how no one has caught on to this. The kid’s laughter brings him back to the footage – the live feed.

“Yeah, yeah, I think Chinese is good for tonight. You want me to pick it up on my way back from band practice?” Tony is transfixed, watching the kid pace back and forth.

This was a kid. A fucking high schooler dressed in a glorified red and blue onesie.

A high schooler that could stop a bus with his bare hands. Who flung himself in front of guns, in front of vehicles, who had already built up a reputation as someone who would save people without a second's thought.

Tony is amazed.

* * *

Tony wasn’t a saint, was well aware of his failures as a human being, of his failures as Iron Man.

He’d done a lifetime’s worth amount of work in trying to make up for the mistakes of his past, would likely be striving to be better for the rest of it.  

But here was this kid – _a high-schooler_ , Tony can’t wrap his head around it – throwing himself into danger and… for what?

Tony wasn’t sure how this kid came to have his… powers, or even the full extent of what he could do.

But it was clear that seemingly from one moment to the next, the world gained another superhero.

Tony had to find out who this kid was.

* * *

“FRIDAY, dispatch a drone. Follow the kid.”

FRIDAY obeys, Tony’s eyes still on the live feed of the kid – the spider thing – still pacing on the roof. He’d hung up the phone, was just talking to himself now.

It made so much more sense now, the constant chatter the spider kid seemed to do. He wasn’t just being quippy for the hell of it.

He was a _kid_. Of course, he wouldn’t shut up when facing whatever danger he happened to be in at the time. As the drone approaches – still blocks away, he can see the kid’s head turn in its direction. Tony pauses.

Could the kid hear it?

_What the fuck?_

“FRIDAY, ghost mode it.”

The drone goes silent, invisible to the naked eye. Tony wonders if this is enough. As the drone gets closer to the kid, he notices the kid stays alert but then seemingly dismisses it.

“Better run by Delmar’s, May’ll be pissed if I forget again.” The kid tells himself, swinging a hand out.

“Keep your distance, Fri. But don’t let him out of your sight.”

The drone slows down, zooming in on the kid. The kid – _spider guy is a kid_ – seems to swing with relative ease through the city streets. Tony had wondered if the webs were coming out of him, which was disgusting to think about, but with a zoomed in view of him – in HD definition no less – he can see the kid is using some kind of wrist contraption.

Where had this kid gotten them from? Who the hell was funding this kid, with webbing that could somehow carry his weight while still keeping third-rate criminals stuck to walls for hours?

The kid swings into an alley way, Tony notices as the kid swears – scrambling for civilian clothes. He dives behind a dumpster, out of sight for anyone else except for Tony’s silent drone and unmasks.

And there he is.

He’s a child. Fuck, he’d been calling him a kid for the past hour but here it is – an actual damn child in a red and blue hoodie.

“FRIDAY, run facial recognition on the infant.” Tony glances towards the screen where FRIDAY runs the scan, giving the kid some privacy as he frantically changes into whatever clothes he has hidden. Tony’s nose wrinkles, thinking of the kid diving under a dumpster for them.

That, along with the sweat and city grime he had no doubt accumulated after the day’s events, must make the kid reek.

“Got him, boss.” And there it is.

Fifteen-year old – _what the FUCK_ – Peter Parker, in all his adolescent glory. He directs FRIDAY to keep the drone on him, recording the footage for later because Tony is too distracted by the file in front of him.

Fifteen-year-old Peter Parker. Sophomore at Midtown Science. _What the fuck_.

Tony is furious. His parents had been shit at being parents, would never have won parent of the year awards, but who in their right mind would allow their kid to go out and do what he did? Clearly they didn’t know, but what parent – especially if their name wasn’t Howard Stark – could be so inept?

And then he notices the next line and is immediately shamed.

Richard and Mary Parker. Deceased.

Before he can question if the kid is some shitty foster home, he notices that his legal guardians are shown as Ben and May Parker… Ben Parker also being listed as deceased.

Tony puts a hand to his face, covering his mouth in silent horror.

What the hell had this kid been through?

* * *

He spends the next few hours engrossed in Peter Parker’s file, combing through the relatively short life of a kid who had been dealt a tragic and shitty hand.

Parents died when he was seven. Moved in with his aunt and uncle, only for the uncle to have died just a few months back.

He scans the news article, the obituary – puts two and two together that the kid had to have been at the scene. A fit of remorse flows through Tony, but also confusion.

From all the footage he’s seen of the spider-kid, he’d been nothing but chatty, bright – hopeful even. The kid had a reputation for his sarcastic humor, but it wasn’t anything tinged with darkness – not nearly as much as it should, considering the shit he’d encountered in his life.

He asks FRIDAY to show him the drone footage, watches as Peter Parker waltzes in and out of a bodega – eggs in hand.

It mesmerizes Tony. This kid – who’d seen more tragedy in his short life than men twice his age – was just bouncing his way through life, as if he didn’t have a care in the world. Tony wonders how much of it is an act, just how good this kid really could be.

Kids were arrogant, smart-mouthed, too damn obnoxious for their own good. At least, Tony had been. But this kid was different – was smart, polite, and from all that he could find online – was just a normal, albeit nerdy, kid.

He wasn’t looking for attention. The kid had clearly kept his identity a secret from his aunt – from any of his little friends. Here he was – _a sophomore in fucking high school_ – saving lives on a random Tuesday, then dropping by a local bodega to pick up groceries.

It didn’t make any sense. Tony was in disbelief.

He watches as he makes his way through the streets of Queens, walks into an aging apartment building. The drone is hovering now, watching through the windows.

For a second he feels odd. He’s stalking a fifteen-year-old.

But then that fifteen-year-old had stopped two buses from crashing into one another earlier today, so who the hell knew what was normal anymore. 

As he taps into the live footage, watching as the kid laughs at something his aunt has said – Tony is continuously amazed.

He doesn’t know what the hell compels Peter Parker to do what he does.

But he’d like to.

* * *

Tony tries to go back to normal in the next few weeks. Keeps tabs on the kid when he can. Goes so far as to make a suit for him.

There’s a part of him that says he’ll wait. Another part of him that knows he can’t.

The kid has no sense of self-preservation whatsoever, Tony gleaning what he could not just from cell phone footage but from the drones he has seemingly permanently sent to watch over him. A part of him wonders that if he waits too long, there will be something – some event or catastrophe – that the kid will jump into full force, and it’ll be too much for him.

He’s been watching the kid for just a few weeks, but he already knows – in the deepest part of his soul, even if he would never admit it out loud – Tony could not live with himself if anything happened to the kid.

Tony tells himself the suit is just a precaution, a way to have an in with the kid once he’s old enough to be considered an Avenger. Because there’s no doubt in Tony’s mind that that’s exactly what the kid could be – a hero.

If he could be a small-town hero, without looking for any credit of his own, as a kid – Tony couldn’t imagine a better person to ask to be a part of the Avengers future.

And then then the world seemingly all decides to go to hell in a hand basket.

* * *

He should’ve known Sokovia would come back to haunt him. Should’ve known that there would never be a moment’s peace in his life.

He isn’t speaking with Pepper. Steve is being an idiot. The UN was a disaster and Barnes a liability.

Now Steve and Barnes were on the run, making a damn mess of an already messy situation. Tony needs to get a handle on this, before it goes any further south.

Ross is a pain in his ass. He’s on limited time.

When Nat asks where his idea was, he immediately thinks of the kid.

* * *

“I’m an idiot. I’m an idiot. What the hell am I doing?” Tony mutters to himself as he rides the elevator up Parker’s apartment building. He’d gotten more than few looks when he drove up, several shocked glares as he walked down the hallway to the Parker apartment.

But he was desperate. Needed something – _someone_ – on his side with this.

Rationally, he knows he’s acting beyond idiotic. There is nothing, absolutely _nothing_ , that should compel him to bring a fifteen-year-old into a mess Tony doesn’t even want to be in.

But Tony knows well enough by now that Peter Parker – no matter how young he is – wouldn’t step down away from a fight.

God, he hopes it doesn’t become a fight. Hope that Steve will just see reason for once.

As he walks up to the Parker door – already knowing the kid’s aunt would be home – he puts a hand up to knock and then pauses.

He knows what he’s doing is probably crossing a line. Knows that making himself part of the kid’s life could only lead to terrible things. The kid's strength was admirable, might be enough to give Steve a run for his money - maybe even more. 

Bringing a kid into this was stupid, but then maybe the kid could be the one to deescalate it from going any further. 

Using the kid for his own advantage, and he hadn't even met him. Tony should be more ashamed. 

But then Tony's never felt like he had been a good influence on people anyway. 

Regardless, Peter, seems good enough on his own. Seems to be a kid who – of all people – should have every reason to be angry with the world.

And yet, he isn’t. Willingly has put himself out there, saving cats and kids and whoever else needs him.

Tony’s hand hovers over the door, a sense of something pressing in on him for what he’s about to do. For reasons beyond him, he feels like he’s crossing more than just a line. There’s something that stirs into his gut, a feeling he hasn’t been able to escape.

The kid had captivated his attention from the moment he’d laid eyes on him, had been solidified from the moment he’d learned his real identity.

Tony doesn’t yet know Peter Parker.

He knocks.

But he’s about to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh Tony, what terrible things await you. I am so sorry to have done this to you.
> 
> This was a chapter I really wrestled with - only because I wanted it to be a true and fitting end to the 'It's Quiet Uptown' series. SPECIAL shoutout to [blondsak](https://archiveofourown.org/users/blondsak/pseuds/blondsak) for not only being amazing but for giving much needed clarity, an idea. 
> 
> Because of their help, this actually ISN'T the end of the series. 
> 
> It's the end of this story, yes - but there will be another one-shot (maybe two) that will serve as the end of the series. 
> 
> I love this sad little universe so much. The first fic was the first thing I've written creatively in YEARS and writing this sequel has been a labor of love in the best way. While I'm sad that the series is ending, I'm so grateful that all of you have kindly stuck by me through it all. Reading these chapters aren't easy, and I'm so grateful that you all are kind enough to share with me what you've thought!
> 
> The finale will be posted very soon. Thank you all again so, so much. 
> 
> Come scream at me on [tumblr](http://seek-rest.tumblr.com)\- I love hearing from you all!


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